Seaborn Enchantress
by BelleIllumina
Summary: [Inspired by MadameBaggio's The Gentle Lady series.] Susan Pevensie, whether it be in Narnia or outside it, always goal to be three core things. Queen. Sister. Spy. From the Narnian Network to the post WWII days of the Kingsman and everything in between, even when the Lion God meddled once more. She's still deciding if 'meddle' was the right term. [UNBETAED]
1. Meddling

This was Susan's last set of goodbyes for the day. It wasn't in any way a permanent one, and she made sure to tag an enthusiastic 'see you soon' each time. She still found it hard to leave though. Now that it was the last set, the looming fact that she was leaving sunk to her core. Paired with it was the familiar haunting of the need to stay.

She wanted—needed— to stay. There was so much to do.

The buzzing in the air that she ignored these past weeks was now too palpable to deny.

"Susan, if you stay here for another minute, I am going to force you out." She snapped out of her reverie to a warm dark hand on her arm and an amused voice to her ears. She was staring out the store windows for too long, apparently. "Don't you doubt it, dear. I will even have David escort you to the train station if need be."

The smile that crossed her lips was as automatic as the amusement was genuine. She covered the hand on her arm with her own. "Gregory, you wound me. You know how hard it is to leave. The last time someone left for any semblance of a vacation—"

"The Kingsman almost didn't make it. I know, but it's been years since that time and we're all better now. More stable."

"I cannot help but worry. You know how Tim's going to overwork himself. August is going to do the same. I should be there helping them, or at least making sure they keep themselves healthy."

Gregory's eyes were understanding and there was even its own smile within. However, there was a firmness in his stance that Susan knew through her years. She knew that if pushed, he would personally escort her to the train station without second thought. Her concerns were valid, but she also knew that she was stalling. It was a poor attempt, but the looming need to stay was twisting her stomach to the point of pain.

"Arthur promised that he will take his break only after you've gotten yours. That was the agreement."

"But three weeks long?"

"Either that or three months." He chuckled and she could only shake her head. "We'll have your new set of suits ready by then."

She'd bargained with Arthur—Timothy—with everything in her arsenal to get that three month vacation down to three weeks. Mostly with cold delivery of facts to begging that ' _please, what if something happens? I'm not going to forgive myself if something happens and I am in the countryside.'_ She was just shy away from using her tears when Arthur agreed.

"Would it really be that bad?" Worry colored Gregory's tone. "Going to your home in the country and settling affairs there?"

Susan took a deep breath as Professor Kirke's house flashed in her mind. Her stomach twisted even more, her lungs squeezing with it. Arthur was also the one to suggest that. She had ignored the house for years ever since it was passed down to her. When Mrs. Macready died, she could only delay the immediate matters for so long.

She carried on staring at the door with apprehension. From the corner of her gaze, she saw an orange tabby crossing the street. It didn't help said apprehension.

"Susan." Hands encased her own and squeezed. "I'll talk to Arthur. Stay here."

"No. You're right." She forced herself to sigh, to smile. She detached herself from Gregory and patted the full skirt of her blue dress. "It's a discredit to worry this much when they're quite capable. You will take care of them, won't you?"

"With my life, my lady." The smile he gave her was bright and reassuring. She chuckled and engulfed him in a tight hug.

The buzzing was so loud now that she almost couldn't hear his words properly. Almost.

"Tell us about your trip when you come back." He dropped a kiss on the apple of her cheek and stepped back. His smile now encouraging and his eyes so gentle. "We'll still be here when you come back. The Kingsman won't burn to the ground."

"See you soon, Gregory." She picked up her luggage and turned to the door, then raised her voice a notch. "Take care of Gregory, David dear!"

She couldn't help but laugh when David stumbled out from the back room and quickly saluted. She turned to the door and grabbed the knob.

The orange tabby was still across the street. Now sitting by the door of a boutique directly across their store.

She pushed the door and stepped out without looking back, then found that she couldn't breathe.

 _There was still an orange tabby sitting by the door of the store across the street._

 _An orange tabby cat with too familiar, too golden and too knowing eyes._

Susan couldn't breathe.


	2. Breath

The first thing Susan would tell anyone, if she would even speak of this event, would be the sounds. How the buzzing popped and everything cleared, only to be assaulted by a cacophony that was both familiar and not. Then, she would speak of the sights. How it took her more than a few moments to focus and for the blur to clear. The variety of colors and clothing styles were seen but not acknowledged. Her eyes followed the lines of the infrastructures, but they didn't click.

She would've told you of the taste in her mouth and what was happening in her chest after such.

She would tell you instead of how painful her head snapped when a car, too smooth and too sleek, sped through the street with a deafening zoom. Everything clicked then.

And she still couldn't breathe.

And the orange tabby was still there.

She forced herself to breathe, however ragged. Her mouth parting to gulp in air as she tried to find stability and focus. A constant.

The orange tabby.

The world that was horribly tilting forward slowly righted itself. Far from it should had been, but close enough to a semblance of rightness. This was the only should be, her subconscious also added. The bitter taste in her mouth only magnified. Her clammy hands tried to find purchase on whatever they were both holding.

The orange tabby.

"Miss?" Another snap. Wide eyes blinked and turned to whoever it was that owned the voice. A young woman stared at her with a frown, a crease on her forehead as her hand hovered. Susan would've examined more, if her eyes weren't immediately glued to her bright orange hair. "Are you alright?"

Susan stepped back and would've continued if she had released the knob she was still holding, but she didn't and stood there like a stretched out ragdoll. Staring. Trying to vocalize an answer.

 _No. She wasn't alright. She wasn't. She just did it again. She wouldn't be fine. Alone. She couldn't. Alone. How could she be fine when—_

"Y-yes." The word came out breathless. "There's no need to worry."

"You sure? You look too pale."

Her chuckle sounded a bit mangled. "Natural coloring, I assure you. Thank you for asking."

"If you're sure." The woman motioned to the doorknob she was still gripping for life. "I'll be going in then."

She released it and mustered a smile, a bit shaky, but it would have to do. "Have a good day."

"Keep safe, Miss."

"You too."

When the door snapped shut, Susan stepped away and looked up. In her heart of hearts, she expected something familiar and was slightly disappointed at the jolly ice cream shop sign that welcomed her. Her mind didn't took it that big a surprise though. It was a minor detail amid the catching up. Catching up and laying truths.

 _She did it again, but this time she was able to at least say a semblance of goodbye._

 _At the very least._

A small smile touched her lips, only to change into a frown when she turned back to where the tabby cat was. Because her eyes didn't reach the tabby, even when she was sure he—He— was still there. It stopped at the familiar golden text against the store windows.

"By the mane."

 **A SIMPLE FACT THAT'S EVER KNOWN TO BOTH SUSAN PEVENSIE AND THE ORANGE TABBY CAT WITH TOO KNOWING EYES.**

 **1\. Susan will always doubt.**

Another constant. Amid all the changes around her, Susan held on to that familiar typography, the word, and all it represented.

Susan found herself drowning, so she did as she always have done. She compartmentalized all the emotions and shoved it to the dark corner of her mind. Down in the dungeons of her mind palace.

The orange tabby gave a languid blink.

 **ANOTHER SIMPLE FACT KNOWN TO BOTH.**

 **2\. Susan will always move onward. She promised.**

With her destination set, Susan straightened and gripped her luggage with every intent of having it ground her to reality. This reality. Looking to both sides, she stepped off the sidewalk and to the street. Was there anger? Yes. Was there confusion? Definitely. Was there pain? Staggering. Grief? Plain as day. With every step, her stomach untwisted and her lungs pumped air easier. Purpose, still vague but surely there's one, strengthened her limbs and lengthened her strides. The trek was too short for her liking, but it helped.

She sent a smile to the orange tabby, one with edge and promise. A bit more stable and sure.

This wasn't her first time, after all.

"I demand an explanation in the near future." The tone left no room for argument. "Very near future, preferably."

Another languid blink. Her smile softened then.

Among the Pevensies, it was known fact that Susan's relationship with Aslan was the most complicated. She never had Lucy's unwavering faith and belief. She would always have a question on her tongue and in her eyes. Through time and all eternity, Lucy would always follow the Lion and stand by his side as his prophetess. Susan wasn't such. She didn't have Peter's large heart or his eyes that flash with fierce love for his people. His ready trust to lead in the name of his land and liege. She definitely didn't have Edmund's wisdom or enlightenment. She didn't have his depth of understanding on justice and mercy.

Susan wasn't special, but she liked to think that whatever she had fits with what her siblings had. She was able to rule with them. She was—is— Queen Susan the Gentle and surely there's some truth in that.

 **SOMETHING THAT SUSAN DIDN'T BELIEVE BUT IS TRUE:**

 **1\. Aslan understood (even when her siblings couldn't).**

With another steadying breath, Susan pushed open the door and stepped in.

A beat passed. Then another.

"Aren't you coming in?" For a split second, she tried to remember if there was ever a store rule against animals. She just wished that there was none when she came up blank. It seemed to hardly matter when He slipped in, settled by her feet, and a small relief blossomed in her chest.

She should know the feeling of being in familiar unfamiliarity. It didn't mean that she would always be prepared for it.

 _Joy._ They flourished enough to still be standing. The atmosphere still the same and she knew, she could feel it in her bones, purpose still the same.

 _Wonder._ Both changed and unchanged. How curious. The suits that lined the racks were so clear in memory and the contrast made her see the detailed differences. It was amazing to see this mold into an in between.

"How can we help you?" A man with graying head of hair and a ready smile stepped away from the counter.

Suddenly, _anguish,_ for it was only, literally, a few minutes ago for her. Amid her memories and experience, she knew. _She left them all behind again._

She felt agony standing here knowing that she shouldn't be. Did they think that she abandoned them? How long, how desperate did they look for her?

"We are yet to make suits for pets, Madam, but we do have a wide selection that you can choose from."

A thousand questions demanded they be asked. They pushed against her clenched teeth and wrung her tongue. They bled and spread their woe. They wailed, calling her coward.

She could feel His eyes on her.

She smiled. "I am here for a pickup. A set of suits made by Mr. Gregory Damien."

A deep breath. Some shuffling. A part of her found twisted amusement at how her brain could still process observations, when her heart felt like giving out.

 _She left so much responsibility behind._

A new member. In a sense that he's not that intimately attached to the name.

"Apologies. You are eight years late. That delivery was the last set Mr. Damien made before he died. However, I can consult our records for your order. If there is one, we can make a new set as replacement." He motioned that she follow him to the counter.

 _Tell us—_

"D-david Hollander."

— _about your trip—_

The man paused, turning to her with the question in his eyes. His mouth pressed in consideration of voicing out the question or just letting it hang between them.

— _when you get back._

"Mr. Hollander would know of such set. I would like to speak with him." No questions. She didn't need questions when she's sure she's close to collapsing. Her mind a scramble of an attempt to organize too many truths.

 _She was back and they were gone._

Suspicion blessed the man's face, but there was also confusion. She could think of a few trains of thought he might be having. She added, "Please. Tell him it's Pevensie."

He gave her a slight bow then stepped back to the counter and the into the back rooms.

"Please." She pleaded under her breath. "Please, let this be the last. Please, promise me this would be the last."

The tabby looked up to her with soft eyes. Susan met His eyes and tried—failed to give a smile. "I don't think my heart can take it anymore."

As instinct dictated, her heart was already cycling through the names of those she left behind this time around. The sins she was now tainted of.

"Impossible." A voice soft with disbelief and rough with emotion. "Susan."

"I—," A shudder. "I'm back."

David Hollander stood before her with a head full of silver hair and his hands shaking. So far from the bright young man with a cheeky smile that saluted her goodbye a few minutes ago. _A few minutes ago._ He shuffled closer, hands reaching out for hers.

"We saw you hail a cab and leave, but here you are." Tears gathered around his eyes, lighter now with age. She didn't deny him her hands and grasped back with every ounce of her longing. "Oh, my lady, we saw you and we couldn't believe when they said you never reached the train station."

"I'm sorry."

"But here you are, looking like you never left." He stepped back to look at her from head to toe. His hand cupped her cheek and wiped the tears she never thought already fell. "Down to this errant curl of your hair."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left."

Sobs tore through her throat and her shoulders quaked. She was engulfed in a warm hug and it only served to cement the fact that this was now her reality.

She wasn't jesting when she said her heart might not take well with another one of these meddlings.

Half-finished apologies spilled from her lips, cut off by struggling gasps or sobs. In the arms of an old friend Susan tried her best to ask forgiveness to all that she left behind. She really tried.

 _Just a few minutes ago,_ circled nonstop in her head.

"Whatever happened," He whispered to her ear as they swayed in the middle of the store. Her sobs still pained but subsiding. His arms still tight around her and unwavering. "You're here, my Queen Guinevere. You're home."

 _But was it really? This wasn't the first time, after all._

* * *

Oliver Underhill had been working with the Kingsman for almost 20 years, and it would be impossible to not pick up some espionage skills from the agents they cater to. These were the skills he defaulted to as he tried to figure out just what happened and was still happening. He got a decent lot of information, he couldn't deny that. However, they weren't adding up.

Simply because he had never heard of a Guinevere in active duty. No Kingsman exam. No report. No gossip or rumor. None.

Whatever speculations he had in mind, which were a lot, he would always hit the same dead end.

She looked too young. Too young to be in a long term mission that would miss any news of Mr. Damien's death. Too young to match any immediate record of a recently recruited Guinevere, if there even was one.

It was giving him a headache and before it could even evolve into a migraine, he stopped. If the explanation for this was logical, then he would wait for it. If it was an impossibility, then he would do the same. Who knows what the science labs were experimenting? V-day was still fresh in everyone's mind. Harry Hart's so called resurrection was even fresher. Superheroes, mutants, and even more once impossibilities already littered every form of media in daily doses. If the existence of a Guinevere was an impossibility, what's new about it in a world already experiencing its wonders?

"David. Miss Pevensie." He nodded to the occupants of the shop's meeting room. He set down the tea set and mugs before pouring a generous helping of hot chocolate for Miss Pevensie. "I followed David's instructions to the T, Miss. I hope it would be to your liking."

"Thank you, Oliver." The smile he received was a whole lot different from the ones she gave David. Those were so full of grief and struggle. It was a relief to see this smile that was a bit brighter even if it was exhausted.

David brought Miss Pevensie to the meeting room once her sobs had quieted completely. Oliver caught a few whispers of comfort from his senior before he was asked to prepare some tea and hot chocolate. He also caught the haunted look in her eyes.

"A pleasure, my lady." He carried on pouring tea for the rest of them and then took a seat across David. His senior's every movement portrayed concern for the young woman. From the tilt of his body to the way he kept looking at her. "Is there anything we can do for your cat? Food? I am sure we can arrange a quick delivery."

She took a sip of her hot chocolate and the smile that she gave this time was of relief. It was beautiful like the rest of her smiles, even the grieving ones. This one was better just because it was brighter. Once she set the mug back her hand went to the tabby cat that was curled up on her lap. It hadn't left her or lost contact of her ever since they came into the shop. "He's fine."

That was that. They drank in comfortable silence with few words spoken but between David and Miss Pevensie, aplenty understood. There was a calm, reminiscent to the one before she came, but quite different as well.

He would be positive and believe it was better.

 **A SPLIT SECOND HOPE FROM OLIVER UNDERHILL:**

 **1\. To see Susan Pevensie without her haunted eyes.**


	3. Files

_Come to the shop. Bring all of the Lost Guinevere's files._

That was the shortest summary Harry Hart could formulate from David Hollander's call. It was a shame of a summary too, because it ignored too many subjects. Top of the pile was how he never got to ask any question at all. He wouldn't have thought of it very alarming if he was still Galahad. However, he was now Arthur and secrets once hidden were now laid bare before him. Along with it, was the weight of that codename. David's tone didn't give any sign of harm or impending danger. Instead, there was relief mixed with worry. There was a grand amount of haste with excitement. That worried him as well.

It lodged tension in his belly, cramping it.

A name that held so much meaning, long put into the shadows, was now shoved into the light. He wasn't supposed to be the Arthur that should handle this. He only learned of the secrets that hid behind their secrets a few months ago.

He should've expected that fate would test him so soon.

"Merlin." He looked to his side only to see the agent sitting back and motioning at the screens. Before he followed the instruction, he took in Merlin's countenance. He expected a blank and that he had to rely on knowing him long enough to read him. He was surprised though. Merlin's agitation was more pronounced. The tensed jaw and the rigid lines of his shoulders couldn't be softened by the military jumper. The crease on his forehead and twist of his lips. He realized that this magnification was because he was not only his friend, but also the Arthur.

He had just found closure and acceptance to the secrets revealed to him and now, here's a new one. He turned to the screens.

One showed the current camera feed inside and outside the shop. Another showed shots taken from said feed of the woman that claimed to be Guinevere. Beside it were the Kingsman records with more pictures at the forefront. He could easily recall the details of most of the files. He could also remember how Merlin introduced this woman to him once he understood the gravity of the codename.

 _This is Susan Pevensie, the youngest, last and lost Guinevere. Her contributions to the Kingsman are still used to this day._

"This is the final picture they had of her the day she left." The picture was colorized to match the reports of the Arthur of that time. Merlin probably had all the details memorized with the scope of his job. "As you can see, it's a perfect match. Almost made look like she was supposed to vacation here instead of the countryside."

"Do you think it's her?"

"She will have to prove a lot. If it isn't her, disposal will be done in a blink. If it's her, it will be complicated."

"Because of the changes in the Kingsman hierarchy?"

"Nae. Because of technology."

The worry that was making home in his stomach evolved into dread. He knew what Merlin meant. If Valentine was able to infiltrate the shop by proving that their tech was better, who's to say that this wasn't an attempt of the same?

"So, how can we prove that it's not her?"

"There's the usual basics. Fingerprints and DNA." Knowing Merlin, a thousand or a million of questions were already filtered and their respective possibilities were laid out to be dealt with. "I'm going to do a global sweep just to make sure that we're up to date with the world's tech just in case she passes that. Though, even the greatest would miss something."

"You're that confident you can catch her."

"It innae a matter ay ability," Merlin's voice was cold. "It's responsibility."

Arthurs. Merlins. Guineveres. A closet of skeletons he was once ignorant of. He watched as this Guinevere sat with her back straight, shoulders tensed, gaze jumping from one painting to another. Her face still red even when it was cleaned of the tears a few moments before. Looking closer, Harry found a couple of curious things and it made the dread ease a bit.

"And the cat?"

That had Merlin tensing even more. He reached out and pressed a few keys. A feed replayed a few times. "This is anither reason why I hae tae make a global tech sweep."

Why was it, that the more Harry looked at the cat just popping out of the feed, he felt ease instead of even more dread? He searched for an answer within him, but found none. Instead, he batted Merlin's hand away and played the feed until the cat entered the shop. He only turned back to the live feed when he was satisfied.

Her hands were shaking.

"What are you going to do if it is her?"

"Then we find out where 'er loyalties lie, as well as the answer tae other questions. Such as why now. She shood be dead, but since we hae Captain America, we cannae discount the possibility. We cannae ignore the others as well."

"A consciousness transplant?"

Merlin looked surprised. "Hmm. A wee bit extreme. I was thinkin' along th' lines of a min' reprogram."

"Well. You have a plan."

"Hmm."

"What if she's loyal to us?"

Silence. Harry watched Merlin as he watched the so called lost Guinevere.

"What if she is Susan Pevensie, our long lost Guinevere, and is loyal to us?"

"If the lass is indeed she," Merlin hid his lips with a fist. He took a deep breath then shook his head. "That would be a miracle."

The lighter accent had him smiling. Merlin's number five distraction method from stress was more thinking. Apparently, the quartermaster hadn't thought in depth of the good possibility. It could result to even more stress, but the surprise of the moment was important to stop him from spiraling too much into the details. Merlin could handle those pretty well, but Harry had different plans at the moment.

 _"Oh. Hello there."_

 _"Who're you, luv?"_

A beat passed.

"Do you think she'll be as good as the records?"

"I hope. She's legend, after all."

 _"Annalise Hollander. David's granddaughter."_ A pale hand was held out, now steady. _"I'll stand, but I dare not disturb the cat."_

"Shall we?" Merlin collapsed everything and transferred all of it to their glasses, then stood. A glint in his eyes that made Harry wonder if that was what made Merlin, the Merlin of Kingsman.

* * *

"I still can't believe that you're David's granddaughter!" Eggsy couldn't deny that he was excited, hyped. "He never told me anything and he's been teaching, well trying to teach, me chess for months now! Roxy, did you know?"

"No. I'm more surprised that David's still teaching you. You're hopeless at it."

He could tell that even Roxy was intrigued, if the look on her face was anything to go by. Ever since he joined the Kingsman, he made it a habit to visit the shop outside official business. Something that he dragged Roxy in whenever she's available. It started as form of comfort. He wanted to know more about Harry, not as an agent but as a person. The shop had so many little stories about his mentor and he asked for them without pause. David and Oliver were only glad to tell. It was a way of exorcising demons and honoring the memory of a comrade well loved.

When Harry came back to them? Well those stories turned to blackmail material. Not that he used them often.

So imagine his curiosity when he barged in the shop's meeting room to see a new face. A very beautiful one at that. He deduced she was one of them only a beat later.

"May I venture a guess?" Annalise set her mug down. "You think it's too complicated. Not in terms of what they represent, but all the possibilities that could happen."

That made him think. The first part was true. He often thought of the chess pieces as the Kingsman at large. Often thought himself a knight too. But predicting what was to come frustrated him. Not that he couldn't, it just that he couldn't pick among so many.

"Fucking on point at first try. Am I that obvious?" Her wide eyes prompted a smirk from him. "I should brush up on my skills."

"Definitely not the chess ones. You don't have any skills for it." Roxy quipped. Her gaze was sharp even with the raised brow she gave him. She turned to Annalise. "I'm gonna say that's not a lucky guess."

The red smile shifted just a bit. Teasing to delighted. He had cozied up aplenty of women that he believed himself capable enough at reading and predicting them. Annalise Hollander though was open enough to read and quite a delight to try to predict.

"Oh no." She chuckled, shaking her head a bit. "I was gonna say 'or the other way around' just to make sure I have that base covered. I'm not that good."

But, there _was_ something and he didn't know what it was, but damn he's itching to figure it out. It's like that shitty champagne drink during the Kingsman exam.

"So what is it you do?" Roxy poured herself another cup of tea.

"Oh. Nothing as big as you do. In terms of chess," She sent a look his way, her blue eyes dancing. "You can say I'm a pawn to your knights."

Eggsy's calling it. It was so easy to like her.

"I am not a spy, but closer to an informant. Other than that, I make sure that agents' back stories are consistent." It was obvious she knew what she was talking about. "Let's say, you were sent to my area, I am to make sure that our stories match up with yours. I also need to make sure that no one would give you away."

Her head tilted a bit to the side, smugness escaping her in playful twirls. "Mostly, it's people watching."

He looked at Roxy and found a slight furrow on her brow and a tight line on her lips. A popular expression when she's trying to solve a puzzle or she's trying to word her statements properly to get the most out of it.

"So any embarrassing stories? Favorite juicy gossips?" He leaned forward, so eager that Annalise paused halfway pouring herself another mug of hot choco. He noted that it was her third cup since Oliver came with a new kettle and her seventh since they came in. "The most scandalous."

Roxy apparently was planning a different set of questions, probably more educational, but nonetheless she was hooked by the topic.

Annalise considered as she finished pouring her mug. Her eyes half-lid in memory.

"Off record?"

"Fuck, yes please."

* * *

Having a staring contest with a cat was in all intents and purposes, an unfair match. Cats were starers, or at least that's how Roxy knew them. That's what she observed from the different cats her college friends had, and all the staring matches that she lost. Those were the only chances she could observe the felines. Her family favored dogs and birds and she really didn't ask why.

It's this lack of data that had her staring. Another reason was, if a cat leaps on top of the table where food and drinks were laid out, you're supposed to do something. However, the cat ignored the food and sat staring at her. The expression one of judging but it's golden eyes bellied warmth. So she stared and it stared back.

They both saw the cat the moment they stepped in. Annalise's introduction only made it the focus for a few moments. The cat looked well cared from the luscious coat and larger built. It also didn't make a sound all throughout the conversation. It just stayed curled up on her lap while she ran her fingers through its fur. Roxy still wondered if the woman knew she plowed through nine or more cups of hot chocolate, before she had to go to the loo.

Eggsy, ever the gent, escorted her. Though she had a feeling he wanted to know more.

They've always assumed that Kingsman was a large organization. It's just that their circle of interactions was so little.

Was it only just the agents? Or was it because they were new?

Roxy blinked at the thought.

The cat looked smug, before blinking back. Another staring match lost. The cat laid down on its stomach and licked its paw. Still smug.

It reminded her of Annalise, which was almost a given. Creatures tend to share traits through exposure. She tried to distinguish who got what trait from who, as strange as it was that her subjects were a cat and a grown woman. She gave the attempt a few moments before finally addressing what was bothering her.

Why was Annalise crying? Why, of all places, was she in the Kingsman meeting room?

Annalise said that she was visiting David, but everyone knew that it's not just that. Finding her in a core area of the Kingsman cemented that she was not a civilian. Her evasion to tell them even when she knew they're Kingsman hinted that as well. Roxy expected Harry and Merlin to come soon. If those two were involved, it would mean that there was concern. A Kingsman agent would be sent out soon, if it couldn't be fixed remotely.

Roxy hoped that Eggsy got more clues to share when they come back. She hardly got anything substantial from their conversation other than the fact that Annalise knew what she was doing.

The door opened. She stood up when she saw David holding it out to let Harry and Merlin in.

"Lancelot."

"Arthur. Merlin."

"At ease." Harry moved to his seat as Arthur, while Merlin stood by his side.

She sat back down in time to David closing the door. The cat was no longer on the table, instead sitting on the chair Annalise had vacated.

"She went to the loo and Galahad escorted her. They'll be back soon." She was right. It was something concerning. Harry had that little smile. Merlin was stoic, but his jaw was tense. That tension she held onto and it racked her spine. "Would you like me to—"

"—almost unfair because they have Captain America and a bunch of other superheroes. So I'm sayin', if that's how it is, the Kingsman is England's fuckin' own." The door opened. Silence reigned for a moment, gazes jumping from one place to another. Eggsy's smile shifted just a bit. "What's up?"

Annalise gave his arm a pat and another smile. Then she stepped into the room, no longer David's granddaughter. She stepped into the room like she owned it and the room was more than glad to be owned by her. This was indeed a serious matter.

She stopped at the other end of the table. "Dandelion gold no longer works."

Roxy turned to Harry, needing to see every reaction to get a clue. At the same time, her brain whizzed past everything she could pull out about dandelions, colors, and how they were used through the known Kingsman history. Harry's jaw tightened, then there was nothing else. Her subconscious was already going through curses at this point. No one would speak of it, but everyone knew they were still reeling back and adjusting to a new norm after Valentine. She turned to Merlin then.

His face took on the familiar analytic look. She hoped then, that she was sitting closer to them instead of where she was.

"What is it that ye suggest then?" Merlin asked after the silence.

Annalise's smile turned into a smirk. "I prefer lycoris red."

Roxy watched as Harry looked up at Merlin and how Merlin's forehead creased. Then, she looked back at Annalise. The smirk was gone.

"My name is Susan Pevensie. Codename: Guinevere. Kingsman."

Susan. Pevensie. Guinevere.

"You're supposed to be fuckin' dead." Eggsy's voice broke through the silence that followed. Roxy didn't even think he would know anything about Guinevere.

Annali—Susan's face cracked to momentary grief.

* * *

"You're both dismissed."

Eggsy looked like he was going to argue. Susan understood why. She did just lie to them about her identity and didn't even give enough proof about her claim of that identity. It was also clear that they were worried of David and Oliver's safety. They probably thought that she threatened the two just to get here. No. Not really threatened. If she wasn't Susan Pevensie and she was an enemy of the Kingsman, what she just did to David was exploitation of emotions. Oliver probably thought that she was a long lost relative of David's with how fast things moved earlier.

Roxy moved to open the door. It only served to heighten the tension. Susan doubted Roxy was agreeing to the dismissal, it's just that she knew that she wouldn't get anything by staying.

"I'm sorry for lying." She spoke out to break the tension. Eggsy's gaze turned to a glare when they landed on her. "I wasn't really sure if you would believe my story if I did tell you. David said I was the last."

"How can I even trust a word you're saying at this point, huh?"

"You can't and it will be better that you don't. But," Susan met his glare straight on. "This world now have superheroes, gods, and aliens. How can you discount my continued existence as an impossibility?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer and raised an eyebrow to lay down a challenge. "How well do you know Project Rebirth?"

She kept that brow up and her gaze steady, staring him to yielding. That would be enough. Roxy would grab at that little question and that would distract them enough to give her space. Eggsy looked like he got the same idea and averted his gaze. She forced herself not to smile. Those two were still a bit wet behind the ears, but they do show promise. Just like the younger than usual Arthur that now sat at the head of the table

Something must have happened with the Kingsman recently.

Susan turned to the Merlin and the Arthur with a raised hand once the door clicked shut. She needed the control in this situation and for as long as she could. The element of her surprise could only go for so long.

"I am willing to prove my identity in any way you wish me to. However," she dropped her hand back to the tabletop. "I would like to know what happened to the Q branch."

From the Merlin's reaction, she struck the right chord. She didn't care if she struck too early. She had to lay down as many cards as foundation as she could. She had to prove that she was too important to be disposed, whether be it her physical skills, mental prowess, or the information she knew, obsolete as it might be.

"It was transferred under the Merlin's leadership." Arthur answered her this time. She guessed that he had a few months to a year of experience as Arthur under his belt. However, the opposite could be said for the Merlin. "It's been that way, ever since."

The Kingsman was an organization that based its lore on the Arthurian stories. And like the fame these legends got, it had always spanned through as many countries as it could. That was why it had always been divided into three branches. Even in that, it followed the legends. In all the Knights of the Round Table, two were knighted by the King Arthur. Merlin, the wizard, filled 28 seats. A hundred seats were filled by the King Leodegrance as Guinevere's dowry. Translate that to departments, then you'll have the span of reach the Kingsman had. Departments led by those who received codenames outside the Knights of Round.

The answer wasn't satisfying. She wanted to know what happened to all the people under her. If they lived a peaceful life and if they even noticed that she disappeared. At this point? She had to be.

"What do I have to do?"

* * *

 _Note:_

 _Here is an attempt of an organization with the Kingsman. I hope I explained a summary or preview of it properly. I hope and pray that I can explain it without resorting to information dumps, especially the extensive kind. All I can say this early in relation to what I had in mind is that it would be a great player on how the dynamics of the organization and their allies would go._

 _This story is unbetaed and I have 10 chapters with 11 being written in progress. If you have anything you wish to clarify about anything, feel free to ask. I would love to hear what you think about it._

 _Thank you so much for your time and interest._


	4. Impromptu

Steve Rogers was a busy man. Given, he wasn't as busy as Tony Stark with his business or Nick Fury with the management of SHIELD. However, Steve Rogers was Captain America and there's weight in that name. He was a good man, but he was far from being a saint. So, when he received a long distance call from London requesting that he confirm something in behalf of Peggy Carter, he dropped everything. He called in a favor to Tony and was on board a private jet to London in just a few hours.

Kingsman. A tailor shop in Saville Road. Normally, he wouldn't even remember anything about a tailor shop, but they mentioned Peggy and it was easy to remember things about her. Little things that she could slip through busy schedules and bonds of secrecy. _England's new knights._ He relished the emotion as with every memory of her, looking forward to the day he could see her again. His heart was heavy for what he lost, but there was peace in some degree. They would be proud of this future.

Peggy definitely never gave up the fighting for said future.

"Good morning. I'm here to be fitted." He wasn't a saint, because he found enjoyment playing these little roles that he had to act in. Peggy would always smirk and tell him that he was a decent actor. "I was told that it'll make me look like a knight of legend."

The middle aged man at the counter looked at him with a small smile to match his own. A secret passed in between and a cue he was taught long before. "And may I know who recommended the Kingsman to you?"

He pushed the urge to say Peggy Carter away, amused at how true that statement would be. Only for him, though. "Arthur, sir. My name is Steve Rogers."

"If you would follow me, we have some very fine suit designs you can choose from at the back." He did. The need for haste now dead, and the emotions beneath now reined in. Curiosity. Concern. A slight fear. His mind returning to the theories of what he could confirm in Peggy's behalf. He just hoped that whatever it was, it would be something he was there back then to confirm. "Please wait here. I'll get one of our tailors to do the fitting."

He gave a nod and moved into the room. His eyes roamed through the displayed suits. Hmmm. He wasn't the best in fashion, but he couldn't deny that they're quality suits. Maybe _he would_ get a suit before going home. Heaven knew that he had a plenty of formal occasions to attend. They even had all those fancy watches and other accessories. This would be Stark's type of place. He might even recommend this to him.

There was a click of the door opening and movement.

"My, my, Captain Rogers."

His breathing stuttered and everything froze. His mind threw memories to the forefront in quick succession. Twin teasing smiles of red lips and two pairs of caring eyes were constant through all of them. The tailor shop faded and was replaced by one of those bars during the war. One of the many that Peggy brought him to of which a table was already reserved for four, one of the chairs filled in. A night of stories exchanged and intel earned through sweet smiles and flirting glances.

"Is it true that you're working with a god now?"

* * *

 _"Pevensie."_

All the tests were positive. DNA, fingerprints, and whatever it was that Merlin could put her through. They all came out saying that yes, she was Susan Pevensie. The cat was also clean of any inconsistencies that could mean trackers or cameras. The cat, was just a normal cat.

Now, the disbelief on Captain Roger's face was captured in perfect detail by the shop cameras. The audio? They caught the hitch of breath and its exhale.

 _"They told me it's been 60 years for me. How long has it been for you?"_ Pevensie stepped into the room with her arms folded and a reminiscent smile. Captain Rogers crossed the distance in four strides, engulfing the woman in an almost bone-crushing hug. There was a soft squeal and in moments, she was hugging him back. _"Oh Steve, I thought I would never see you again."_

Merlin also didn't like how his global tech sweep returned with nothing that could validate his argument of Susan Pevensie's loyalties.

"Well I doubt someone could fucking fake that." Eggsy stood to the right of his seat. "That thing she said yesterday was her password too, wasn't it?"

"You said it too." Roxy spoke up, closer and from his left. "Her prints and DNA matched."

 _"What happened? How—Why—Don't tell me—Susan."_

 _"Steve. Steve. Breathe."_ Pevensie chuckled and held Rogers' face in both her hands. _"Steve, you're not the only one experimented on."_

 _"When? How?"_

Rogers slowly set Pevensie back down, then led her to the nearest chair. He didn't let go of her hand even when he sat down beside her. _"Was it after?"_

 _"Ten years after. Someone had revived the time travel project."_

That was how she explained it to him and Harry. It wasn't cryosleep, super strength, or any other attempt to a biological superpower. It was a try to stop the war from even happening.

 _"Time travel."_ There was an undertone of rage in the captain's voice. _"I have read and heard of an attempt of it. There were talks of shutting down that project when Project Rebirth succeeded. They believed there was no more need for it. Project Rebirth would handle everything. Why would anyone want to revive that when the war's already over?"_

Merlin already knew what she would answer to that question. He had asked the same yesterday. If they were able to achieve the technology to time travel, then it's like getting a chance to reset every mistake and see every possibility to fruition. It's a dangerous power.

 _"And if you're already here, that means they succeeded."_ That was another matter that Merlin was worried about. However, he also knew how she would answer this.

 _"I'm not a helpless child, Steve. I know and have sabotaged technical operations before. I made sure that they wouldn't be able to do it again."_ She looked so sure of what she was saying. Looking at her now beside her displaced kin, the impossibility seemed more possible to Merlin. However, to trust would be to stake things bigger than he could ever give easily. _"I think they were so desperate of the success that they needed someone that could survive both the travel and the stay."_

 _"So they took a spy."_

"I think it's more unbelievable that she's an impostor." Roxy cut through the chance the silence gave. To them, a day was too short to wrap the mind around what was before them. "Not only with all the impossibilities already happening around us, but because it's a bit too risky of an investment to make."

 _"When did they take you?"_

July 27, 1955. Susan Pevensie was forced to take a vacation after her body gave out during a meeting. She was the key player in a Kingsman clean-up mission of a prior one that failed. She never got to her destination and was never found. There were records of almost every Kingsman's testimony of that day and those that followed. Every single attempt to find her and every single dead end that they encountered. Merlin would have to update her file when the time comes. Add, _'Found: August 15, 2015.'_

Merlin repeated in his head. _There's too much at stake._ He knew the power of technology, and he also knew that it was never fool proof. His cameras might have taken the moment she popped into existence, but there's still a margin of error.

 _"How are you, Steve? You've been here longer."_

 _"Almost fully adjusted. There are times I am still forcefully filtering everything before letting them hit me."_

 _"And—the others? Peggy—"_

"The files said she joined us when she was 21, early 1950. She wouldn't have known Captain Rogers or knew of Project Rebirth."

"Hell. I'm still floored that she fucking knows Captain America. D'you think I can ask her to ask him to give me some autographs or take some pictures?"

"Focus Eggsy."

"Come on. You wanna know what I think about this?"

Merlin wasn't looking away from the screen, but it seemed that Eggsy took the silence as an agreement, because he continued. "There's no other choice but to keep her. I mean, if she ain't who she is, it's better to keep her close than let her wander around with the information she has on us. On the other hand, if she's as good as she's supposed to be, we can use her until she shows her true colors. Killing her so soon would be ungentlemanly."

That was a point that he and Harry agreed early on. They couldn't ignore the possibility that she was loyal to the Kingsman.

 _"Alzheimer's!"_ Merlin closed his eyes to hide the panicked face of the woman on the screen. There was something else that bothered him. It wasn't about her loyalty to the Kingsman or if she was who she said she was. What was it? _"I don't understand. She's one of the sharpest minds I've ever met."_

 _"She was staying in a home in Washington, but was moved to Manchester because she wished to see England one last time. O-once you've settled, I can bring you to her."_

 _"Once I am allowed, definitely."_

What was it? What was it? What?

"Seriously, she's good."

"That's a change of mind from how you were yesterday."

"I'm not saying I like her and I trust her. What I'm saying is that she's giving us a chance to know her and it might be a risk, but she's risking more as well."

Control. Merlin's eyes snapped open. The moment Susan Pevensie stepped into the room, she knew she had to be in control. She knew she was in disadvantage with current information so she used the advantage of shocking those that could still be shocked. She expected Eggsy and Roxy to give her time. It also helped that they didn't expect her to reveal her blatant lie so quickly.

She might be desperate. Desperate enough to cling to said control even when he tried to take it away from her.

"Because she's alone in the heart of enemy territory." Roxy seemed to have grabbed and went far at the little clue Pevensie gave.

"The whole Annalise stunt was like an exam we failed, eh Rox?"

"Well, she's Susan Pevensie. She's pretty notable."

"First female Kingsman?"

"I'm disappointed Galahad." Harry finally joined the conversation. "This was covered during training, at least briefly."

"I knew she's supposed to be dead. I'll make sure to brush up when we have another time travel incident."

Merlin didn't even need to look at Eggsy to feel the cheek. He turned away from the screen either way. Eggsy looked impressed. Roxy looked with an undertone of wonder. Harry was smiling softly. All of these under the sheen of suspicion.

"Susan Pevensie. 1950 - 1955. MIA." Merlin started reciting what he could remember of the training material. The Kingsman training limits the information revealed and thus, he had to remember what was safe to tell. "She joined with a stellar background and a notable recommendation under her belt. As ye assumed, many thought that the recommendation came from Peggy Carter who was one of the top agents of MI5 and SSR."

"A recommendation of one person that's not a Kingsman shouldn't be a sure in. Unless there's politics there. Does that mean that we had connections with SHIELD?" Eggsy looked at Harry.

"I have the same question." Roxy looked at Merlin. "Do we still have it?"

Yes. They still did. Merlin was impressed that those two got this far. They continued to prove themselves every time. However, the matter with SHIELD was something they shouldn't know the full scope of. Yet.

"It wasn't Peggy Carter's recommendation that gave her an in to the Kingsman." Harry gave him a look before carrying on. "Before she met Peggy Carter, she was already spying for England at age of 15."

"No shit."

"That's too young!"

"Yes shit, Galahad."

 _"Do you want to go back? I know SHIELD isn't dabbling in time travel, but we have the technology that might make it possible. Tony and Bruce are geniuses, don't mention that to Stark. I could even ask Thor for help. He'll like you."_

 _"Then why do you stay?"_

Silence.

 _"Because they need me here."_

 _"For this land now have greater troubles and in need of greater heroes. I think I'll stay. I don't want to mess the timeline more than I already have."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _"Oh, you know me. I've been in the 'adjusting to new surroundings' all my life. Now tell me about the Stark son."_

"Fifteen." Eggsy's brows furrowed. "During the war, fifteen."

"Maybe that's why her records are astounding. Five years with so few failures. She's even younger than us when we started, Eggsy."

"Yes. She volunteered to a BSC department in Washington and was accepted because they were quite understaffed. At first she was doing desk work. Some statements of her coworkers there said that she was a large help, both in organization and verification. Again, they were understaffed, so she volunteered to be a handler. It was only when she's been considered to be formally made an agent that they found out she was 15." Merlin took a sip of his coffee. It had gone cold, but he gulped it down all the same. "And that apparently she was just in vacation because her father was giving a lecture in one of the universities."

"Holy fuck, that's some vacation."

"She volunteered. If that happened today, I would be suspicious, but it was during the war. Younger boys would've tried to get into the army. That must've been hard."

Merlin sought Harry's eyes this time. He was still smiling and the softness in his gaze was still there. Merlin was only relieved because there's still suspicion. Knowing Harry though, he's going to give the girl a chance while still being prepared to destroy the first sign of threat.

Merlin decided to take over the explanations. "That same year, Peggy Carter came into the picture. She tried to recruit her only to be denied. Ms. Pevensie was still a valuable asset to the BSC which was already affiliated to the MI6. Her parents allowed her to stay under the cover story that they were told about. A prestigious school offered a scholarship which appealed to her father. Ms. Carter continued her attempts, striking a bargain with the BSC. Before her first year ended, Susan Pevensie was an unofficial liaison between the BSC and the SSR."

"So that's why she knew of Project Rebirth." Roxy looked at him with her brows raised. "These weren't in the archives."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at her in return. He only let it down when understanding broke through her gaze, which didn't take long.

"Of course. Special authorization."

 _"Susan. Are you sure you're going to be fine? Are fine?"_

 _"I'm sure. I'll adapt. You know me."_

 _"Yes. You were taken just when you were about to take a vacation. Kept somewhere in god knows how long. Shoved into some contraption only to step out in a century not your own and in a place where the last thing you remember is saying goodbye to now old and dead comrades!"_

The outburst caused a silence. Merlin snapped back to the screen just in time to see the clear grief and anger on Captain Roger's face. A beat later they were pushed back behind concern.

 _"Susan. Are you alright?"_

 _"... No."_

The anguish on her face only made the silence stretch. It made everyone in the lab realize the gravity of the situation in her perspective. Roxy was right. She was alone in the heart of the enemy territory.

 _"There are still things back then that are still here though, changed they may be."_ She looked around the room with a fond smile before her eyes met its blue kin. _"And you're here."_

 _"For as long as you need me beside you."_

 _"A week."_

 _"Su. Even more than that."_

 _"Oh no, Captain Rogers. I won't be selfish enough to take you from the people. Imagine all the hearts broken."_

Merlin thought she smiled a bit too easily. Now, he realized it wasn't the case of frequency but nuance. Those she gave them yesterday were inferior compared to the ones she gave Captain Rogers. Her eyes sparkled and there's a liveliness in the stretch of her lips even amid her grief.

 _"Give me a week, Steve. Let's visit the old places. Let's visit Peggy."_

 _"A week then."_

 _"Good. Now first order of business."_

Rogers chuckled and shook his head. _"Already."_

 _"There's a very kind and impressionable young Kingsman who has nothing but admiration for you the moment I started asking about The Captain America."_

The tension in the lab shifted quickly. Eggsy's eyes widened to saucers as he leaned closer to the screens with his hands on the desk.

 _"I don't know, Su. I'm supposed to not show favoritism. Also, how much are my autographs in the market these days? They're sold the moment I give them."_

"Fucking hell! Who would want to sell Captain America's autograph immediately? That would be stupid! At least wait a few years or some big event like the aliens in New York."

"Eggsy!"

"What? You'll get a shit ton of money out of it. More than thrice the price sometimes."

"You're unbelievable."

 _"Nah. He's too smart for that. The next time you save the world from aliens, maybe then."_

"Ha! She gets it!"

 _"Or, I'll recommend a time when the government uses you as scapegoat."_

"A woman after my own heart."

 _"Though that's a small price compared to what I'll get from the embarrassing stories of Captain America. I'm sure Stark would pay a hefty sum enough for me to retire, for each story."_

A slam on the desk jerked everyone. Eggsy pushed himself off with a face eating grin. "Well then, lady and gentlemen. I will leave you to propose eternal love to that woman there and get my new investments. Arthur?"

"You are dismissed, Galahad. Don't be too disappointed when she says no, Eggsy."

Yes. Merlin's having quite mixed emotions about the power of Pevensie's control.

* * *

Susan said no to the proposal, laughing so hard her eyes teared up and her grin was as wide as Eggsy's. He also got more investments than expected, Captain America giving then with a flourish.

Eggsy had the feeling it was for making her laugh.

* * *

 _ **Note:**_

 _This would be a really slow fic, so far with what I had already written. I want to go deep into the lore of intertwining Susan's in between status. I also want to go deep on how she would adapt to the modern world and how the others would help her and adapt to her presence. This is also gonna be pretty Susan-centric. Not only in a Susan POV sort, but also the others' POV of Susan. I am just so excited thinking of how Susan would react to the new and old things of the modern world._


	5. Loss

_Thank you for your time reading this fic. Thank you for the kudos and the comments. Thank you so so soooo much. Last week was a busy week and I honestly forgot about uploading because I was trying to write the next chapter for "A Span of Sixty Years". I hope you enjoy this chapter._

* * *

It was an official mission or as official as it could be at this point.

It was almost surreal, but Eggsy understood. Chester King was still so clear in his memories. It was back then that he had realized that in a spy organization trust was fickle, loyalty was pinnacle, and information was currency. He was still trying to adapt to it all, but he's thankful of his prior experiences. He had seen things more fucked up than what he's currently in now.

He could only imagine what sort of fuck up Susan was experiencing.

Did he believe that she's who she is? Yes. What she said the first day had him thinking. She was a once impossibility, but who's to say what's she's claiming wasn't true? Definitely not him. He hardly had anything he could compare to her experience. Did he trust her? No. Not yet. He hoped that he would be able to though. She seemed to be a very interesting person.

He looked up to the rearview mirror to see the pair sitting on the backseat. He met Captain America's blue eyes on it. He held it for a few moments before Steve broke the gaze and set his cheek against the top of Susan's head.

The woman was napping snuggled against Steve with his arm wrapped around her. Every few minutes or so, he would do what they just did, meeting gazes through the rearview mirror for a few moments. There would always be a small smile from him before he returned to his vigil of holding her. She spent most of the trip napping, something Eggsy could understand. Now that his head was clearer than the first day, he was sure that she had been running in pure adrenaline the past days. This was a little break that she was letting herself have. He could relate to that as well. He could still remember how his body crashed once he was sure that Harry was fine and alive.

No. Not crash. If anything, Susan was gathering strength for what she was going to face, and she desperately needed that. She got plenty planned for the week she have with Captain America. From what he heard, Steve stayed with Susan in her guest room until 3AM talking and planning. Eggsy lowered his expectations about punctuality for today and was surprised to see them both ready by the appointed time. Which was a good thing. The emergency meeting that Harry called for would've been delayed too. Their Arthur was clearly for the idea of keeping her around and he would damn well see her off before anything else. Of course, for the monitoring as well. This was a mission after all.

The quiet continued to reign. Eggsy could handle it. Sometimes, especially back when they still lived with Dean and he couldn't leave the house, he would drown in the quiet waiting for the tension to break. These recent days though, he learned to relish it. The quiet took on new meanings. His mum and sister safe and happy. No more drunk shouting or held back cries.

The only way he could describe this quiet was exhausted.

"Captain America, sir?" He ventured another look and saw Steve meet his gaze. "May I ask a question, sir?"

Steve sat back, shifting carefully to not wake Susan, then nodded. Eggsy waited for a few moments. There was no crackle on the other line of the comms, meaning Merlin, who was getting a live feed, got no complaints. Steve cleared his throat and stretched his neck a bit. "First things first, son, you can call me Steve. Next, what is it?"

"I mean no offense, sir—Steve." It's weird to address a superhero this way, especially with how he acted the night before, proposing to Susan and all that. "But, how are you so sure that she is… Susan Pevensie?"

Still no crackle, but he could almost see the frown on Merlin's face.

There was a chuckle. Eggsy looked at the rearview mirror again. Steve tried to clear his face but failed and chuckled again. It was weird, seeing a superhero laugh so casually. Was there something they should've known that they missed?

"Have you seen her eyebrows?"

Eggsy blinked. "Her… Eyebrows?"

"Uhuh." Steve gave the sleeping woman an amused smile. "She had a distinct way of using her eyebrows for expressions. She also had a very specific way of making people feel like idiots just by raising them."

Ah. Eggsy tried not to wince. He remembered how she stared him down, while she was looking up at him. Crystal.

"You've seen it." A smirk this time. "I thought that it'll all be for me at this point."

"Is it really her eyebrows?"

"Yes. Especially paired to those eyes of hers." Steve picked up a lock of her hair away from her face. "You will realize, that she has a completely different air. Even more than I have as a displaced in time person. She's very unique."

Susan stirred, pulling herself from Steve and blinking away sleep. She looked adorable. "Are we there yet?"

"Just a few minutes." He couldn't help but add. "Milady."

"Thank you, Eggsy. I'm really sorry we took you away."

"Are you kidding? I'm in the presence of Captain America. I'll volunteer cleaning his shoes just for the experience!"

"I can clean my shoes just fine, son."

Eggsy caught sight of Susan's subtle raise of brow. He could sort of understand what Steve meant. Her eyebrow game was strong. Steve gave an innocent smile. The exhausted silence turned a bit comfortable after that exchange.

"So, Susan," Eggsy restarted the conversation after a few minutes. "Any chance you'll reconsider my proposal?"

"You are a dear Eggsy, and quite a smart one at that. But I do need something more to gain in such partnership."

"Aw come on. It's fucking brilliant! You have the resources and I know damn people who would pay for such juicy stories."

Steve pouted for a moment. If this wasn't a mission, Eggsy was 'considering' using the feed he's getting in this. Considering, with air quotes.

"I don't know, dear. I'm waiting for a better offer."

"Well then." He turned to Steve then. "What's the price for hearing Susan's embarrassing stories?"

"Eggsy!"

"Milady, if one can't bargain then one must blackmail." He tipped an imaginary hat to her. "Captain?"

"Tempting."

"Steve! Don't you dare!"

"Oh, I'm daring ma'am. Safely. I think some conditions should be agreed to before any transaction happens." Was there even doubt that Steve was enjoying this turn of events? No. "I think we could be very good business partners."

"I'm not zipping my lips completely to whatever Susan's gonna give."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking for a percentage of what you're going to get out of it."

"Interesting. Do carry on."

"You traitor!" Susan's gasp was loud and her disbelief clear. She pulled farther away from Steve, indignant, then poked his side hard enough to make him jump.

"Oh. I'm just working on countermeasures, Su. You taught me that." He caught her hand when she tried to poke him again. "Now Eggsy, here's a bonus."

Yes, it was possible for Susan to look horrified and for Steve to be absolutely wicked.

"Susan is very, and I mean very, ticklish." And to demonstrate the point, he anchored Susan by trapping a wrist down the seat, then attacked her sides with nimble fingers.

In the following minutes, Eggsy had in his backseat Captain America tickling Susan Pevensie. Her shrieks and squeals unrestrained. Her laughter hysterical. Her attempts to escape futile. By the end of it, she was leaning against the other door the farthest she could from Steve. Her cheeks red and her chest heaving. A glare leveled to the both of them. Unfortunately, it lost its fire when you see her upturned lips.

Eggsy gave her his most angelic smile.

He would've given anything for fate to shut its trap, but no. Her smile faltered when she saw the gates. It waited patiently as they caught their breath and the atmosphere turned somber immediately. The way her smile crumbled and the pain in her eyes were genuine. It reminded him of how his mom would try her best to hold Dean back only to fail. Of when his mom would whisper her apologies to him when she checked on him during the night and he was there.

At that very moment, he wanted to go ask Merlin if he really have to go with them. He understood that this was a mission. He understood that they were all supposed to monitor her. Did he really need to accompany them and intrude a private moment?

Surely what they've seen was already enough? Merlin wouldn't be that heartless. If he was, then Eggsy would definitely ask Harry to override it.

"Aren't you coming with us Eggsy?"

His head snapped to her and was welcomed by a small smile. She had her legs out of the car, her hand wrapped in Steve's own as he held the door open. Her eyes soft and an eyebrow slightly raised. He took a deep breath and gulped the tightness in his throat.

Merlin be damned, he'd fight him on this if he had to.

"Y-you okay with that?" He was ready to tell her that it would be alright. He would definitely stay and go through a beating or whatever punishment Merlin and Harry had for him. He was ready, but the air killed all the words when she smiled wider and offered a hand. The air whooshed out of his lungs as he sagged to the seat. "Well fuck, I guess I'm meeting Peggy Carter."

She chuckled and shook her head in amusement."I guess you are."

Eggsy, daring to and never regretting, reached out, took her offered hand to squeeze. "Susan, I couldn't imagine or even understand the fuckery you are going through, but I'll be here if you need me."

She took a shuddering breath and the small smile grew a bit. It was still small, but for now it was enough. She squeezed his hand back too. "Thank you, Eggsy."

A few moments after, Eggsy was walking a few feet behind them. He watched as these two misplaced beings walked arm in arm, backs straight, shoulders sloped as if bearing weight, but with steps sure.

 **A PERSONAL VOW FROM EGGSY UNWIN:**

 **1\. To make this Kingsman a home for Susan Pevensie the way it became a home to him.**

A message popped up in his glasses. Roxy's best summary of the meeting came to view.

 _Everyone's weirded out. Harry's making arrangements. You'll know when you get back. So far, good._

Eggsy sighed in relief. Yes. There was the matter of trust and loyalty, but to not give someone a chance was ungentlemanly. The old Eggsy was someone a gentleman wouldn't easily trust, but he was given a chance and look where he was now. So, he didn't trust Susan completely, but he would take it upon himself to try to understand.

 _Thanks. Gossip later._ He sent back.

* * *

"Wait." A realization slammed to the forefront of Susan's mind that had her reeling. What composure she had built in the hours before, cracked to let out her unadulterated horror. She could feel Steve steady her with a discreet pull. The nurse that was leading them paused his trek to look back at them. The last footstep before the silence was Eggsy's who was behind. "She lost both of us."

"...Yes." How she envied Steve for having the time to face this demon. She regretted being so adamant with her foundation building that she would suffer through this pain, willingly.

"Without proper goodbyes."

"Susan, if—"

"No."

The last step was still echoing in her head.

"Just." She gripped his arm to ground her to reality. "It wasn't like this before."

"Before?"

 **WHAT'S DEFINITELY NOT IN STEVE ROGER'S MIND:**

 **1\. Sixty years was worlds different to 1300.**

"After you disappeared, we vowed to keep tabs on each other. The longest I've disappeared was three months." She loosened her grip when she was sure she wouldn't tip over. "Before. At least."

"You'll be fine, Su."

That three month disappearance was her dropping out during the last mission of her Kingsman recruitment training. She left it all with a final report on said mission and a simple note sent directly to the Guinevere of that time. Her world stopped during those three months.

"She'll scold me for disappearing, probably going to glare me into submission. Demand why I didn't even give a peep."

"That's true. You are one fine work of a secret keeper." He took the first step. She followed.

"Thank you."

She didn't know what to expect when she entered Peggy's room. She made sure that she kept all avenues open as she usually did with her. So the moment she stepped in, she was floored to feel the shock of relief. Things had stayed indeed, changed they might be.

The steel she found in Peggy the first time they met was still there. It had mellowed and gentled, but still definitely there. Frail bodied she might be now, but there's still the surety in her every move. A known calm. A fight too. With that smile though, she's done saving the world.

Peggy's living her every day to the fullest at this point.

Susan marveled at how her grace evolved through the decades.

She also tried her best to keep her heart down and away from her throat. The seconds that ticked away after the nurse's footsteps faded only had her said heart claw at her lungs. The blood pounded in her ears and warped sounds. The longer she stood there, the more she wanted to run. She forgot what was around her until she felt Steve's hand on her back.

"Peggy?" Steve nudged her closer, his tone amiable. He told her it was better to start this way.

The woman that was part of their odd group paused in her reading. She slowly closed the book and turned to them. A few moments after, she smiled. "And who is this lovely couple?"

A beat. She wanted to laugh, but she didn't have the breath supply required.

"Well, not a couple. Unless that other young lad is a lover."

Her heart sank to her stomach, claws embedded all the way down.

Another beat.

"If things we're different and we are still a team, I would've match made you too. Unfortunately, I hold on to debt owned. Like a dance or afternoon tea." The smirk that appeared was sharp enough to snap the tension in the room. With it crashed the dam of emotions it held. "You didn't say goodbye."

"Peg—"

"Su." Arms spread open. "Welcome home."

Whatever plans Susan got had disintegrated. In this small room with these two people, this was home. This was a home she knew, incomplete it might be at this point. She built this. Now it's torn apart by time and as before, she was powerless against it. She had worked so hard to keep them, in every way she could. This was all that's left. The desperation of past losses she denied, fueled her actions only for it to come to this. So, Susan threw herself into Peggy's open arms. She was careful not to hurt her, but was astounded when Peggy returned it with such force. Again, she cried apologies to someone's chest with her heart begging that this be the last. She had left too many without proper goodbyes.

"I should start remembering all those MIA and KIA'd agents whose bodies were never found." Peggy wiped her tears and grinned. Susan mustered a wet chuckle, not only for the familiar sarcasm, but also because the light in those eyes were the same. "Who knows? Maybe they'll show up like you two. Then again, you two were special."

"Peggy. Peggy. I—" The last time Susan saw Peggy was a month ago, for her. They had tea and talked about the world. She could feel the decades in her bones. "I missed you my oath sister."

"And I, you." Susan felt Peggy's fingers moving through her hair. "Come on. Don't hide that snotty face of yours. I want to see you. "

She shook her head and burrowed closer to her chest. She wanted to tell her what happened. Or at least tell her the lie that she concocted and led Steve into acting out. She couldn't.

"I've long forgiven you."

That had her pulling back. She sniffled. "Truly?"

"Yes. Truly. Now before I forget, I will tell you something I've told Steve. I do not care if you think of feel unworthy of it. I will order you if need be."

"Peggy. I just dis—"

"And at this point, I don't really care of that story. You're here, aren't you?"

She strangled a sob. Peggy reached out and wiped the tears on her cheeks.

"Do not burden yourself of the past. Do not think in any way that what you did halted us from living a full life or what's closest to it. You are Susan Pevensie." Peggy gasped for breath and cleared her throat with a cough. She cupped Susan's face with both hands. "You have a closet of skeletons the size of Europe with more than one story for each. You have a burden that's ever been on your shoulders. You are in a land that you didn't ask for. I don't know why or how, but you are Susan Pevensie."

"I carry onward. Whatever happens, I carry on." Susan continued. She was Susan Pevensie and it meant so much more. "Always forward, never back."

"You are Susan Pevensie and you will live a full life or die trying." Peggy smoothened the crease on Susan's forehead and then once more wiped off the tears from her cheeks. "Live not for us. Not for those you left behind. You've already done so much, Su. Live for yourself."

She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell her that she didn't deserve it. Blood and lives on her hands. Lies and unsaid goodbyes on her lips. Reputations and futures she had trodden down on. Yet, she was greedy and she wanted that happiness.

"I have things that I regret but it is miniscule compared to the happiness that I've found in this life I've lived. I wish you the same, Su. If not, better." Peggy then looked at Steve. "You will take care of her."

"Only when she couldn't take care of herself." Steve smirked at them. That got a laugh out of Peggy and a failed attempt of a grin from Susan. "You know that she could destroy my life if I crossed a line, Peg."

Fondness bled from Peggy as she shook her head, settling back to her pillows and patting Susan's cheek. "You're such a beautiful child to be visiting an old woman like me and to be in tears. Are you volunteers?"

Susan thought her heart was powdered enough with heartbreak. She's proven wrong. She looked at Steve. "I—I think we are."

"Oh. Wonderful! Come. Lady, sit on the bed with me. You, handsome, sit on the chair." Once they were where Peggy wanted them, she took both their hands in each of her own. "Now tell me, are you a couple? Is that handsome young man, the best man to your wedding?"

Susan's laugh was a touch too hysterical. She looked at Steve with wide eyes. "I told you she'll find out."

"Well love, I am too smitten to act anything but."

In the next hour, she made up a story about her love with Steve that Peggy would be proud of.

* * *

"Galahad, you can turn off the feed and cut the comms now."

 _"Fucking finally. Thank you."_

Harry watched as the comms link cut off and the feed disappear from the screen. The sudden silence was almost deafening and the images last shown by the feed were burned in his mind. He knew that Eggsy was itching to give them a private moment. He knew that the boy was ready to endure anything just for it. Something he admired of the boy. He hoped that he would keep his heart on the right place even after all the bloodbath and lies. He turned to check on Merlin only to see him unmoving. His elbows set on the desk and his hands clasped against his mouth. The lines of tension on his shoulders and spine were the familiar norm. Harry turned his back from the screen and faced the opposite way.

The images still burned.

Steve Rogers hugging a bone tired Susan Pevensie, swaying her gently like a young child that woke up in a nightmare. His dark coat highlighted her pale hands gripping at it as she hugged him back. Her composure broken and whatever smile she had before was unraveled like her cover stories.

Could he do the same? Smile and weave a lie in her situation? To see everything dead, dying and changed while he stayed the same?

He felt a bit out of depth being shoved into a situation like this. He only hoped that he was doing right by following his instincts. Because, he had taken for granted so many things about the Kingsman and now had his eyes opened.

Arthurs. Merlins. Guineveres.

"Any word from the Kingsguard?" He tried to fill the silence with something.

The K branch led by Arthurs was divided into two: The Kingsman agents (K1) and the Kingsguard (K2). They had been working together ever since the creation of the organization. However, as time went by, the Kingsman's open knowledge of the existence of the Kingsguard grew smaller. It came to the point that only the Trinity knew of said department and acted as middlemen. The arrangement was now like light and shadow. Harry, having crossed the disparity, now got some answers only to get more questions.

"Reports just came in after the meeting. They've checked on the information that Percival's gathering about the drugs. About 62.35% of the leads are good. K2 was able to narrow the K1 level leads to a 27%."

"Any casualties?"

"No deaths. Some injuries. I had some ghouls relocate them with new identities. I asked them to stop when the 27% revealed too much political entanglement. Letting them poke on those would prove more trouble."

"Trigger happy governments. How fun. How is Percival?"

"He's making copies of the formulas, both coded, and memorized. He's sending them as soon as he could, while trying to sabotage the production. I'm coordinating with Cavallo on making a cure, or delaying the effects. Success rate is low, but we've some of Cavallo's contacts for help." Merlin took a deep breath and pulled up some files to the screens. "Percival thinks that his mission would be over soon. He gave us a TTC of two weeks."

"And what do you think?"

The coordinated departments under the Q and M branches found a connection between different isolated incidents of candy drug deaths among children. The incidents happened in increasing frequency for the last six months and was overshadowed by the Valentine debacle. They've sent in Percival to a production lab in hopes of creating a countermeasure. So far, it was going smoothly. Another reason they sent in Percival was to start an internal rift in the drug syndicate, as well as an announcement of an opposition.

"Mordred is ready for the drug war that could happen. There wouldn't be much of a fight though. His influence to the Caster syndicate would definitely direct the charge, but the syndicate wouldn't last." There's a small amused shrug. "I'm surprised the two of us actually agreed on dissolving Caster."

"He's gotten bored of Caster. His reports are becoming shorter." Harry noticed the patterns from the reports that was forwarded to him and what he knew of the agent. "He's probably itching to get into this new one and dismantle it from the very foundations. Sadly, he can't."

As good as Mordred was with being a double or even a triple agent, the timing was pinnacle in this matter.

"Ye'll be handling that." Merlin's gaze pulled from Eggsy's cut feed, a smirk on.

"You really don't like him." Harry mirrored the smirk.

"I don't have to like someone to work with them." The smirk dropped.

Harry grinned. "I'm in luck. I heard his niece's birthday is coming up. I doubt he would miss one at this point."

Merlin just hummed.

"Take as much information as possible. Sabotage everything that could be sabotaged. Confine the suspects while doing so. Assassinate those that are too dangerous. Use everything taken to improve and prevent future incidents. Leave no trace." Harry recited the general pattern of their operations. "Put Guinevere on the mission list."

"What?"

"Do you plan on easing up the surveillance on her?"

"No."

"Then put her on the mission list. I know you're trying to either break or bait her, but _she_ is Susan Pevensie. You want to test her abilities just to see if they matched the records? This is the way to do it."

"Ye caught on easily."

"Among all of us, you're the only one who knows her to a degree. I can see why you're baiting her."

Before the sparkle could enter Merlin's gaze, Harry continued, "Add me to the mission list as well."

That dimmed the hazel eyes immediately.

"Arthurs are given fewer field missions because their main mission is tae lead th' organization."

"Do you plan on easing up the surveillance on her?"

"For Pete's sake, dae ye trust her already?"

"Wizard, she is my Queen."

Merlin's eyes flashed with rage. One could see the retorts he was formulating just by knowing where and what to look for. Said rage was too close to the surface and knowing Merlin, he was one of the best with keeping his emotions in check. The offense was clear.

It was also clear to Harry, that this matter was pushing Merlin to his limit. If such words could spur him to this extent. It's been three days.

Three. Days.

Merlin removed his glasses and kneaded his temples. That meant that it was something personal at this point.

 **FACTS THAT THE NEW ARTHUR NOW KNOW:**

 **1\. Merlins are the hidden blades.**

 **2\. Guineveres are the jeweled shields.**

 **3\. The jeweled shield is the one hiding the blade.**

Merlin sagged back to his chair and looked up at the ceiling. The dark circles around his eyes were stark. His gaze was unseeing, but haunted.

Realization dawned.

"Whatever your nightmares showed, I'm not planning on going anywhere in the near future, especially with Death." He wasn't sure if his words would make any difference or impact, but he would try. "I also don't plan to lose anyone without Death breaking my fingers."

He should've known this before even starting the conversation. He should've known that even after months since V-day, Merlin's still reeling from his failure. Chester King's betrayal. Merlin's still grieving. He had forgotten amid conflicting emotions of concern for the populace and the relief that he was still alive. He should've remembered and addressed the feelings of those around him sooner.

He needed to check on Eggsy and Roxy about this.

"I cannae fail, Harry. One wrong move and I might lose Eggsy or Roxy or someone else or all of you this time. If she is on our side, 'en congratulations. However, I will ne'er leave things tae chance."

He reached out and squeezed Merlin's shoulder. "I'm alive, Merlin. You're alive too. I don't want you to live as if we're both already rotting in the grave."

He hoped that Merlin, at the very least, would let himself breathe.

"You're not alone in this anymore."


	6. Try

Harry invited him to be there. Merlin didn't want to or direly needed to. He got enough on his plate to turn down the invitation, whether it be monitoring other agents on missions, checking the science department for their discoveries, or just plain catching up on the backlog that they had. He could also tell Harry outright all these, even with the hopeful smile on his face.

He didn't tell him that, so here he was standing beside Harry watching the black car park before them.

 **MERLIN'S ONLY REASON FOR BEING THERE:**

 **1\. Technology can only do so much in gathering information.**

Eggsy was the first to step out with a smile. There was a bit of strain, but his eyes were still bright. He moved to open Pevensie's door and offered a hand. She took the offer and stepped out with such ease that one would think she was wearing a gown instead of the signature power suit. Captain Rogers exited a moment after, amusement directed at Eggsy.

In signature Eggsy fashion, he had endeared himself to Susan Pevensie and Captain Steve Rogers, and vice versa. Merlin couldn't say that he was surprised of this development. He expected it. The young man could leave an impression quite well.

His gaze turned to Pevensie. Exhaustion had her leaning against Eggsy and there were still bits of red tinting her eyes. Amid it all, grace still blessed her form. It bothered him, this grace. He thought it was bred from girl schools. He also thought it came from home lessons of etiquette and proper manners. Grace that a socialite in high society learned and must possess. He had tried to label it with words fitting her time. Words found during a war-torn England and amid a decade where the classic beauties were at its peak. The words didn't fit. The words felt wrong. He pushed the need to label it away.

Her grace of this moment reminded him of the way bamboo bowed to the wind. Of the shameplant curling its leaves in when touched. Of a cat stretching while basking in the sun's warmth.

Those words came easier.

That was only a small thing compared to the huge unknown about her that he needed to figure out. What was it with her that bothered him to the point of near paranoia? Something more than the control he had found out before.

 _XX/XX/1943._

 _...something unbelievable if we're not in desperate times. I would always wonder though, what pushed a young woman like her to call lockpicking a hobby among many. And from what they told me, a close to perfect one at that._

 _This girl's skills are too good for someone so young. Then again, her eyes are too old for this too young war..._

These statements of wonder and puzzlement littered files without any explanation, from the BSC to the Kingsman. There was never a statement of where the skills came from and each writer knew that a whim was too unbelievable a reason.

"Thank you Arthur, for hearing this old woman's whims." The smile on her face was subdued, but her eyes expressed more just by softening.

"Harry."

"Hm?" She blinked in confusion. To Merlin it was akin to getting out of autopilot. "…Harry?"

"Yes. You are one of us, after all."

Her cheek dropped against Eggsy's shoulder. Her eyes fluttered close for a moment as she took in breath. "Thank you, Harry. For everything."

Then, she opened her eyes.

"And," The word came out breathless. She swept a gaze on both of them before landing on him. He saw the glaze of sleep in those blues and the quiet consideration in them. "What do you want me to call you, Merlin?"

"Merlin."

"You do not trust me. Very good. I don't trust myself in these situations too."

His mind was raging at ' _these situations'_ that he missed whatever followed. _These situations. These._ Which specific were _these situations_? The matter of trust? The grief? The displacement? The time travel?

 _Which_?

Captain Rogers stepped closer and pressed a hand on her back. "Eggsy, can you please bring her to her room?"

"Steve?"

"Su, you're falling asleep on your feet. Eggsy's going to get you to bed, alright?"

Her hand snapped out and grabbed Roger's arm. The blunt fingernails dug and crumpled his sleeve. Her lips parted to speak, shaping but not sounding. Merlin thought she would've said something, but the yawn that followed broke it. Her hand moved to cover her mouth. Freed, Rogers used the opportunity to nudge her again and give Eggsy a nod. "I'll be right there beside you when you wake."

"On the bed?" A languid blink. The sleep faded a bit and some alertness was back in. A small coy smile to finish the expression.

"An invitation?"

"You know you've always been welcome."

She gave them another sweeping look. Merlin wondered if she remembered what she just said. Was it her sleep addled brain's loose guards or a calculated move? Their eyes met. The coy smile widened. The latter, then.

"Can I have an open invitation to your bed as well?" Eggsy stirred them away with a final nod.

There was a chuckle. "One of these days, we'll have a slumber party. I want to know the new wonders man had developed over the decades."

Merlin watched as Rogers stared at them until they were out of earshot. He counted worry on his shoulders, some fatigue on his stance, and amusement in his gaze. Minute details that he picked out as easy as he could pick the flaws in a seemingly pristine gadget.

"You have a good lad with you. He'd been nothing but kind to her."

"She's wrapping him around her finger." Merlin commented, pressing his lips tight. Why was he the only one this bothered and wary? Or was he thinking too much of this that he couldn't notice?

"Oh, don't worry Mr. Merlin. It's quite mutual. She's not liking it, but she couldn't help it."

He didn't like those statements or how Rogers delivered it like a damned fate-decreed fact.

"I hope you're not tired of hearing this. Thank you for letting us see Peggy and all your assistance."

"Rooms and transport aren't a big thing, Captain."

"Even so, if you do not wish to let her stay, I am ready to take her with me to New York once the week is done."

"I wasn't lying when I said she is one of us, Captain. We protect what is ours."

"I do not doubt that but—"

"That will be something Ms. Pevensie needs to decide on by herself." He cut Rogers off. He wouldn't be witness to a banter between Harry and Rogers. His object of observation was gone and Rogers' insights were helpful, but minimal at the moment. "Excuse me."

 _XX/XX/1952_

 _KINGSMAN - ARTHUR: Timothy Donovan_

 _...haven't been a year and she's being called in jest by another codename. Of course, jests are half-truths, and now that I think of it, they had a point._

 _Maybe I have bestowed that name because those were the traits that jumped at me. The noble air and her obvious kindness. The slope of her back and the set of her shoulders. The way she's also quite unreachable. Like she's a blessing bestowed only upon her grace._

 _Working with her for months now and if we are being technical, I see that she fits Guinevere more because of its etymology, and the other name..._

 _That one was of a Queen too either way._

* * *

Roxy volunteered to be their driver the next day. She didn't like where they were going though, especially with what Eggsy told her last night. Of course, he told her aplenty. He alternated between his excitement of Susan and his distress of the privacy part of the mission. It would be a blatant lie to say she wasn't curious and concerned. She wanted answers to the questions she found ever since Susan came to their lives, but she wanted them to be given not taken.

Susan was their Guinevere. She was going to be a part of their family, even if Merlin thought it was temporary.

Roxy looked up to the rearview mirror to check, her glasses sending the live feed to HQ. Eggsy had warned her of the unease of this as well.

She buried it the moment she felt it.

"How were you able to convince Oliver to keep your cover?" She broke the silence, unable to keep the curiosity in amid the silence. Susan and Steve both turned to her, abandoning the windows they were looking out of. She couldn't help but ask. She was impressed, especially with the knowledge that Susan made up Annalise Hollander the moment they stepped into the room. She shouldn't be surprised though. Spies were made to be able to adapt and take a role at the drop of a hat. They were expected to be able to keep their stories intact. For Susan to keep her head after time travel? Admirable.

"Hot chocolate." She glimpsed a smile from the rearview mirror. It got stuck in her mind's eyes. It had her plan that if there was anything she wanted to figure out with Susan Pevensie, it was the nuances of her expressions. The woman seemed to always be amused and testing.

"Hot chocolate?" A few beats passed, then realization set in. "So you knew you were drinking that much hot chocolate!"

"Of course. I quite like chocolate. Some would say I have a problem with it."

Roxy played back the scenes in her mind and focused on the events that involved Oliver. Mainly, they were the refills. The words exchanged. Susan's actions. To the miniscule. Ah. "Intervals with no conversation. Short talk with no name calling. He did look at you weird."

"Weird?"

"Like he's figuring out what's happening. Or piecing up what you're saying and not saying."

"Ah. Yes. He gave up a bit after the third refill. I guess he's more confused at how I could drink that much chocolate and haven't rushed to the closest loo."

"How much is truth?"

"Bits and pieces. I was an informant for some time. I've done the things I've said, especially the people watching."

"Such experience."

"Also, that wasn't a guess."

Roxy's grin was wicked. "I knew it!"

A lull. She knew that her chance to ask questions was now. With their destination, Susan would probably be too drained to answer anything else.

"You volunteered into a spy ring at age 15." She dropped the fact that bothered her the most. There was a pause as Susan slowly turned, a light crease on her forehead. "Why?"

"That's a surprise. My Arthur said that that little tidbit would be under special authorization."

"It still is. It came up during the briefing. It's quite surreal to think about."

"Was it surreal because you think I was too young?"

"Yeah. I keep thinking anything notable I did or could've done when I was 15, but nothing could match what you did. Helping in the war."

"You're a Kingsman in a world still at war, aren't you?" Steve asked with genuine confusion. Roxy did her best not to flush. The question felt like she was called out at her attempt to get some information. She was hoping that Susan would share some stories, even little tidbits. "It doesn't matter what age you start, as long as you do."

Roxy let the silence fill in, hoping that they took it as her taking the words as a compliment. She knew that the awkward silence was only in her head and that it would fade away. Besides, she was on the road.

"During the air raids," Susan started slow and loud enough to hear. "My brothers, sister and I were sent to the countryside for safety. We were taken in by an old professor in a house full of knickknacks of history, such as armors and sculptures. There was a bust of Venus too. Amid it all, my brothers and sister blessed favor on the professor's wooden wardrobe."

"What about you?"

"I had a love and hate relationship with it."

"Had?"

"I learned to make peace with it. Besides, you can say that's where everything started for me."

A wardrobe?

The car dragged to park. Once it was in full stop, Roxy sought Susan's eyes. "What happened there?"

Another smile, this time enigmatic. "Everything."

* * *

Steve knew little about Susan's family. He always accepted it as such given her line of work during the war. The few times she talked about them was easy to recall, but the details already blurred. He was sure of a few things. Calculated words. Undeniable admiration. Utter fondness. It was also always 'my brothers, sister and I'. That was the phrase that triggered memory lane.

Somewhere in that memory lane, he paused. His stomach cramped. His lungs stuttered for breath.

"Susan." He called out since she was leading their little line, with Roxy a few steps behind him. The urge to pull Susan back and return her to the mansion was strong. The dread dug its roots and grew its branches, aiming for his lungs. "Susan, wait."

Susan paused. Another beat passed before she turned around to look at him, not even a full turn. A brow raised. Head cocked to the side a bit. Amusement and confusion clear—ly lies. The urge grew desperate as he tried to find the right words amid the dread now squeezing his lungs. His mind replayed that one moment that paused his memory trek.

 _There was no funeral. We just couldn't accept that she's gone, but I think it was selfishness on our part. At least she's with her family on the other side. We should've been happy for her, but I couldn't._

Peggy's frail form flashed in his mind and he wished that it would help with finding the right words. Instead, he stood there with his mouth forming words that died before they even lived. He stood there watching as the mask on her face settled and cleared the cracks.

"I'm ready to see what grave they made for me." The tilt of her smile was like Bucky's when he's trying to protect him. He knew because the anger that rose in him was the same. "I wonder if a ghoul had taken my name to records."

He wanted to rip that mask off her face, but he knew that it would only hurt her more. So, Steve stomped down the anger and the uselessness he felt. It was hard to see her like this, to know her suffering, to have the time to be able to address it, but to be unable to. He didn't stomp the emotions good enough, because Susan went to his side with concern on her face.

She shouldn't be wearing that expression.

"Steve." He should be the one soothing, but all he could think of was to take her away from this place. "I'll be fine. I'm used to this. I really am."

"Seeing your own grave?"

"Being thought dead." She looped her arm under his and dragged him with her. "They've been dead longer than I've ever been alive. All I could think of now is how can I ever outlive them now?"

"Happily."

The smile she gave him had the signature amusement tainted by longing. The same he found whenever she talked of family. A place unreachable. Secrets that only she, her brothers and sister only knew.

"Happily." He repeated. This time to himself as a promise. The same desperate wish he prayed for Peggy that fateful night of 1945. "They would wish that for you. More than anything."

More than anything.

"We have a promise, my brothers, sisters, and I." She carried along the path with mastery. Her body leaning against him like they were walking in a park instead of a graveyard. There was a degree of serenity on her face this time. He pushed down every question about its sincerity. She broke the silence when they made another turn. "Of course. It's just one among many."

She reached out to the gravestones with a feather touch.

"I think with this one, I held on too tight and twisted it too much." She stopped walking. Steve followed her gaze and found atop a small hill, a cluster of graves. "There _is_ one for me."

"Susan."

"I'm fine." She patted his arm and carried on walking. "I feel as dead as they made me and as empty as the coffin beneath."

She gave the graves a sweeping look once they got there. Steve followed suit.

 _Pole. 1977. Pole. 1980. Pole. 1949. Scrubb. 1983. Scrubb. 1949. Scrubb. 1970. Kirke. 1949. Plummer. 1949. Pevensie. 1949. 1949. Pevensie. 1949. Pevensie. 1949. Pevensie. 1949. Pevensie. 1957._

She was right.

She untangled herself from him and crouched before her family. She reminded Steve of a child. It chased his gaze back to the graves.

 _Beloved._ Helen and William Pevensie. The gravestone was simple with the only highlight being that one word. Engraved in delicate script and painted in sky blue. It stood out against the dark stone. It was her parents that triggered her involvement to the war. Susan would often mention her thanks whenever they came up in conversation.

 _Magnificent._ In gold. Peter Pevensie. Steve could remember a fond smile on Susan's face. _He would like you. I think you will like him too._ He was the Pevensie he looked forward to meet. Now, it filled him with melancholy to think that _the Magnificent_ was no longer a possible friend of his.

 _Valiant_. In luminous silver. Lucy Pevensie. Her name would always bring a bright smile to Susan's face. Brighter and truer than any that he had found. It even overpowered her laughter if one knew her long enough to make a comparison. When it came to Lucy Pevensie, Susan couldn't lie as well as she often did.

 _Just._ In darker silver. Edmund Pevensie. With him, Steve always thought that he was the closest to being Susan's twin, especially with how she spoke of him. Dancing eyes and a knowing smirk. Peggy always perked up when the topic was him. It made him wonder if Peggy ever tried recruiting the kid, age be damned. Susan was proud of him and would often mention him when in a sarcastic mood.

 _Clever._

"So this is what I became." Susan's voice was soft. A pale finger traced the word. Each loop's rise and fall done slow. The silence was deafening. "It was a train crash."

How did it feel, to stand here all those years ago?

Susan's hand dropped and she wrapped the arm around her knees. Her gaze settled on the other graves. Eyes soft. Smile small.

"They were going back to the countryside. Back to the Professor's house."

"They didn't invite you?" Steve moved to crouch beside her, looking at her face as she looked everywhere else.

"Oh, they did. They sent me letters and called me every chance they got. They begged that I come with them." She moved to sit properly then. Her fingers running through the grass and digging to the dirt. "Maybe I should've brought flowers."

Steve clenched his teeth to stop curiosity from shattering his resolve. He kept the questions behind his teeth and his tongue immobile. There was time and he could understand. He could understand the loss and the gap. Grief. Isolation. Homesickness.

He couldn't understand why she had to do this now. What could he say to her?

"They loved that place with every fiber of their being and the land loved them back just as fiercely. It was home for us in a whole different way anywhere else could only aim to be."

"How about you?"

"Me?"

"Didn't you love that place as well?"

"I do. I still do despite everything that happened."

But. There's a but. There was always a but.

"The land no longer needs me. They are more than enough." She motioned to the other graves. The 1949s. "I have claimed another story as my own and I will see it through as I did this. Of course, explaining that to them wasn't easy. They begged and in the end, Lucy cried. Peter became disappointed because of it. Edmund was grave."

There was a hitch in her voice. He wanted to look at her and wipe whatever tears threatened to fall. Instead, he looked at the sky with the curve of Peter's gravestone as his horizon. Her clothes rustled and he felt her shuffle.

"They were all prepared. They planned it all so well even if it was an emergency. They dropped everything. From gathering everyone, even our parents, to trasporta—"

That crack had him already reaching out for her. The pain on her face now open to anyone. Her eyes wide and her lips parted in shock. Another piece of reality sank into understanding. "I couldn't do the same. I can't just...drop everything."

Steve could only hold her then.

* * *

A bottle of wine, a good book, and a comfortable chair by the fireplace. Of course, that would come after a hearty meal and a warm bath, which could only be reached if one was able to leave work. Harry Hart was in such predicament. Given, he would be reviewing work files the moment he finished the three chapters of the book he was reading. The wine and the comfortable chair made the difference, and it was a significant difference.

There was the report on the 27% Kingsman level leads. He was also to review the Kingsguards' reports on the rest of the leads. He should also start planning backups if the drug cartel war fail, even if there's a small possibility for it. Percival would come home, while Mordred sweeps in to conquer control of the board leaving chaos in his wake when he disappears. Then, the next phase would come which he should start figuring out the details on as well.

Merlin told him that he shouldn't be pushing himself too much about all these plan making by trying to come up a counter to every possibility. His ideas, analyses, concerns, and input would be a great start. Merlin told him that he could focus on being the head of the K branch, before being the King Arthur, Head of the Kingsman.

Merlin also said that he could handle whatever's left.

Harry rolled his eyes as he traversed the HQ's halls. Merlin had the gall to tell him to take it easy when he was pushing himself too hard. Like keeping from him the fact that their _affiliated_ informant ring in Scotland turned quiet. It's not Harry's field as head of the K branch, but he should help more with the workload at least.

He halted his thoughts before it fell into the pit of work once more. Wine. Book. Chair. He needed those very, very much.

Once he figured out what's happening in the HQ's living room, that is.

"I can't!"

Steve Rogers marched to and fro in his soldier's gait, shoulders tensed and his free hand clenched. His other hand was wrapped around his phone in a calculated grip. He covered a distance of four large strides before turning back and doing the same. The rhythmic thumping against the carpeted floor.

"I don't care what strings you pull or who you'll call, Tony. I won't—can't—leave until the week is done."

Ah. Superhero business.

If so, why was Merlin standing behind an armchair looking grim? To see the two of them was seeing contrasts. Captain Rogers was a growing whirlwind while Merlin was an ocean surface in a standstill. It was this reason that he was more concerned of the latter. It was an established fact of the Kingsman that Merlin was one of the best with keeping his emotions even under extreme stress. However, when he got to a level that even Harry couldn't read him? It was definitely concerning, especially with the new things he now knew. He moved farther into the room with this in mind.

"Do you think I'll fight you on this if I could do that? No. I won't let SHIELD touch even the tip of her fingernail before we settle some ground rules."

Susan. Harry wasn't there to view the live feed about her trip and he was yet to see it in any way. He was stuck finalizing the affiliations the Kingsman had and reassuring them that the change of head didn't mean change in partnerships. That was how he found out about the extent of the silence with Scotland's information ring. So when Merlin gave him a nod when he reached his side, he was undeniably curious. He could now see Merlin's rigid shoulders and his white-knuckled grip around his cliptab. What could've happened that they didn't know already?

"Tony, she saw her own grave! Her. Own. Grave."

Oh. Harry's heart dropped to his stomach. Not because of the fact, because he knew that already. It was the emotion of the delivery.

"Oh, yes, I have one. Yes. I've seen it. Six months and very much ready."

That was something Harry had wondered when he first found out. Would Susan even be surprised at having a grave? Would she even care of the world moving on without her?

"I don't know why so soon. She just visited Peggy yesterday. Look, Tony, you can come and try to pick me up but you would have to drag me away to do so. I will not leave until the week is done."

At first, he wondered how she could believe that they would believe her story. It was a strange emotion to feel, knowing that there's a semblance of truth in such outrageousness. She believed. That didn't help. When the initial suspicion abated, his disbelief made him question how she could keep her composure and determination. He would label it adrenaline and desperation, but there was an order in her ways. A show of sorts, meant to tell them something other than her authenticity. Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter were part of that stage set, albeit not knowing so.

"Is it that bad?" He turned to Merlin to check his own expression.

Merlin took a deep breath. His body curved forward a bit once he exhaled, a sign that exhaustion was getting him. "There's little waterworks, only family stories. There's...there's a lot to review."

Merlin passed Harry his cliptab, which he accepted with a curious tilt of his head. Merlin just wouldn't pass his cliptab to anyone. He could remember the irritation on his face during the Valentine debacle. Harry wanted to ask if he did that because it was something they couldn't talk about with company or because of something else.

The rhythm continued in the background.

On the cliptab was a picture of Susan tracing the text on her gravestone. _Clever_ , he remembered it to be. A different set of questions flooded his mind then, compared to the first time he discovered of the fact. The only plausible answer he could think of, was understandingly painful.

 **WHAT HAPPENED IN 1957:**

 **1\. The year Timothy Donovan was outvoted on the matter of continuing the search for Guinevere.**

 _Clever._

Did Donovan hope that Susan would outwit her captors? Did he hope that she would live and that in the end, this grave would indeed be a fake one? There was no funeral, after all. This denial of her death, when all her family had already left her. Was it an apology or a desperate plea? What did Susan feel? Did she feel guilt to feel so?

Amid dead family, did this long proclaimed orphan feel like a fraud?

"I don't care what Fury thinks! If he dares do something untoward and disrupt what little peace she has, I will deal with him personally!" The growl that followed that statement became a highlight because the rhythm stopped. A break in his calm tone as well.

 _Clever._

Did they think her clever enough to go and live her life if she did escape? To leave the Kingsman and be the ghost that they turned her to? Did they even think that maybe, maybe, at this point, she would want nothing more than to be with her family again?

In the end, Susan Pevensie was here alive and out of her time.

"She got nothing left, Tony! Nothing!"

Oh. Whatever realization Harry had was cut off by a vision of white moving before them. He felt Merlin tense and shift beside him. Susan was there.

She glided into the room wearing a long white cotton nightgown, undeniably one of her own. Its hem ended shy her ankles and it highlighted her bare feet. Its sleeves billowed as she took each step. Her hair was loose and covered her back in waves. There was, once more, a smile. She looked like she belonged in the mansion, the same way a ghost would adapt to a changing home. She took the phone, standing on her tiptoes just to do so, from an astounded Steve Rogers. She stared at the phone for a few moments, wonder and intrigue obvious. Her free hand took hold of Rogers' clenched fist, uncurling each of his finger as she listened to the voice on the other line. Once she was done with that, she moved to smoothen the crease on his forehead. Only when Rogers surrendered with a sigh did she place the phone against her ear.

"Good evening, Tony." Through it all, she was still smiling. "I hope you don't mind me calling you that. This is _the_ Susan Pevensie."

Rogers held her arm, his muscles bunching in an attempt to conceal his emotions. His movements showed his effort to be unreadable, but there were shards of desperation, worry, and fear sticking out of him among many others. The line of his shoulders had shifted from its coil of defiance to a sharp point of anticipation.

"I'm sorry for keeping him from you. I hope you can understand an old woman's sentimentalities."

Pause. A chuckle.

"Steve's still older, but I'll be happy to be called Grandma."

How could she be so calm? The age old question revisited Harry's mind. This languid calm and the ease of her posture made it look like it was nothing but normal and routine interaction. It made him feel like an intruder and a welcomed audience. He wanted to ask her so many questions, but at the same time, was afraid of what he would get as an answer.

"He forgot to mention, my little Tony, that I did say I won't steal him from the people if the need arises." Her face scrunched a bit as she listened to the other line, before smoothing out into amusement. "Mr. Stark, if we are going to be throwing around endearments and nicknames, I would appreciate if you accept it with the same grace as I did. I was told I'm good at dealing with children."

A grin split Rogers' face and there's another chuckle from Susan. The moment was short lived.

"You can pick him up in the morning, after breakfast." The speed Rogers' face warped to shock and annoyance was admirable. Susan met the glare head on, while her hand dropped to his shoulder to massage the tension away. "Steve found a home there with you. He found new friends and a purpose, whether it be old or new, with you. You are part of his family now. I'm going to try to build a family of my own too."

Try.

"In the end, I may not be able to. I may leave them all again. I may be left alone once more. I will try all the same. I have a feeling you'd understand the unfortunate flaw of caring, Tony."

Try.

The unfortunate flaw of caring.

Harry finally understood Steve Rogers' reply to Merlin's comment. It finally came full circle. The message Susan Pevensie was telling them. This young woman, time displaced and with almost nothing left, was willing to try and find her home with the Kingsman once more, because she cared. She cared enough to trust them amid suspicion and doubt.

"First thing in the morning. You don't have to come yourself. Maybe when I'm settled enough I can meet all of you. Heaven knows, I am more than interested to meet another tangible god."

The tension was gone and there was a level of acceptance of what's going to happen. It would seem that Susan's presence gave Rogers a chance to remember old dynamics while adapting it to the new age. The acceptance only cemented the fact a truth that was slowly becoming less a dream to Harry.

"Oh, I am quite interested in meeting you as well. We could lament on having to babysit a stubborn mule with a flagpole up in his backside. Maybe get into some business transactions." Another series of chuckles followed her words. "I'm sure you would love some ideas to get under Steve's skin easier."

She chose to stay. She chose to try with them. She used the word _family._

"I'll be giving the phone back to Steve now. It's nice talking to you, Tony. Don't forget to get some sleep too."

She did as she said with a final squeeze to Rogers' hand, then stepped back to turn away. She paused halfway when she caught sight of them, her eyes widening at the realization. Harry tried his best and succeeded in keeping his smile at a minimum.

"Steve." She called without breaking eye contact. "You owe Harry and Merlin for keeping them up."

"It's not that late."

She shook her head then smiled back at them. "I should've come sooner, when I felt a great disturbance in the atmosphere."

"The Force, Su."

She blinked and turned to Steve in utter confusion. "The... Force? Is that what they call the atmosphere now?"

Harry sneaked a glance at Merlin then. He wondered how the fan would feel in this situation. He was welcomed with a closed off face highlighted by a tense jaw.

"No. Not at all. It's a movie reference." Rogers had finished his call and now stood beside Susan again. "I felt a great disturbance in the Force. That's the line."

"Well, clearly I have much to catch up on. That little box you use as phones among many others. As well as this... Force." There was a flash of excitement in her blue eyes. It left a residue of intrigue when it disappeared. "Have you reconciled with Tony?"

"I gave him the shop's address. He'll send one of his contacts to pick me up after breakfast."

"That's good. Now, can we please go to bed?"

Harry couldn't stop himself from chuckling this time. "I do have a good book and a bottle of wine waiting for me back home."

"See? Steve, you should stop trying to be the center of attention so much."

"Let's talk about that once you properly met Tony."

Susan rolled her eyes and then looped her arm around Rogers'. "Thank you for indulging this headache of a man. I'll be leaving myself to your care."

All throughout, Merlin kept quiet. His eyes though, were glued at Susan to the point that he stared at the doorway long after she'd left.

* * *

Susan had long given up trying to figure out if she was a pathological manipulator or if she had become one due to her experience through worlds. She just accepted that in her mind, the process to redirect for their safety and misdirect for hers had become a default. Yes, she argued with that little voice in her head, her intentions were sincere. Her mind retorted that even that statement was loaded with loopholes she wouldn't even doubt of using. For the safety and prosperity of her own.

Hugging Steve goodbye and telling him that she would miss him so, was a truth. He had become one of her constants when she decided to grow her roots in America. Peter was ever intrigued at the prospect of meeting him. Lucy prayed a bit more for his safety and his loving heart. Edmund kept teasing her on how half of her coded letters would be praises about this captain. Steve was someone they learned to trust, and even love, because they knew she did. She trusted her siblings so that she looked forward to finally introducing her family to the place in the world she found for herself.

Telling him that she would send him updates the moment she could was another truth. She owed him that. What she witnessed last night was a summary of all the reasons why. He was and is her friend. It amazed her how easy it was to fall back to old dynamics. The feeling of the 'familiar in the unfamiliar' was now as recognizable as fear and as easy to feel as sorrow.

She had pushed back the too thin phone that he had dropped into her hands. She understood that he wanted his updates soon as possible, but she needed to do this at her own pace. He had commented about the Stark Spawn easily giving him a replacement, while he looked and did something odd with said phone. There had been a click before he slipped his phone in his jacket.

A kiss on her forehead and a tight hug, then he's gone.

She's alone again.

 _Almost_ alone.

"How're you?" Harry had accompanied her. A quiet presence amid the goodbyes. It was then that Susan delivered her first lie.

"I'm fine." Then carried on with a truth. "Amused that Steve once again missed a dance with an old friend."

She stepped back into the shop with her default smile. More lies followed suit, unspoken. _There's no restless energy crawling under her skin. There's no scream stuck in her throat. There's no clawing in her stomach or a hollow in her chest._ She chuckled at the last part. Her chest had long hollowed, or as hollowed as it could've been with the multiple failed attempts to fill it with something long term. Her heart had become a patchwork of things she was surprisingly allowed to keep and things she fought tooth and nail just to hold. Twenty-seven seemed to be a significant number to her, at this point.

"Do you plan any changes to your week then?"

She paused and turned back to face him. Harry wasn't smiling. A small part of her expected him to be and was disappointed. She had a clue as to why though. Steve was no longer there to act as her caretaker and the buffer between them. They were all forced to face each other. Face truths.

So she did what she always do.

"Do you know why I didn't come with Steve, Harry?"

She raised a brow. Her mind went through images of assumed movements and actions that he would take to answer. With his personality type and the environment, as well as who she was to him, she had laid down 17 possibilities in three breaths. She narrowed it down to three in the following two.

The one she picked was 65% correct. High enough for assumptions and what little she knew of him.

Harry straightened his shoulders and folded his hands together behind his back. He stepped forward with his right foot and tilted his head a bit to that side as well. The half-smile sprung up. "I think I was too taken by the chance you gave all of us to be a family to you."

The full smile it grew to was possibility seven. The small nod he gave her was possibility three. The way he regarded her for a moment then looked away was possibility one. He motioned her to lead and that was already a given for a gentleman.

"But, please, do tell. I feel like I will be revealed a secret."

Susan barked a soft laugh. Her surprise was true. "I can see where the encouragement of Eggsy's behavior is coming from."

"I would say I'm the one infected." She saw the fondness clear. "I won't tell Eggsy if you don't want me to."

She shook her head with a grin. That one was true as well. "I quite like being an outsider looking in."

"But you've been a SHIELD liaison."

She smirked, "An outsider with special privileges."

And from connections alone and proper navigation, she would've a degree of control through SHIELD if she so wanted to. She took a deep breath. Susan could survive this place. She could flourish in this place. She could definitely wrap everything around her finger and make it bloom like a grand belladonna.

The only step to be taken was if she would.

Lucy would have her ask and prove herself to the Great Cat. Peter would have her convene her ideas to those involved. They wouldn't stop her though. Edmund would smile and give her a side glance, then call this their new stage. He would then step beside her and tilt his head onward to hide the growing grin. _Your orders, Sister Queen?_

* * *

 ** _Notes:_**

 _I apologize for the extreme delay. This chapter's already in my phone for so long. Work stuff happened, including a promotion to a position that is very challenging. I'm adapting slowly since I have no experience on it whatsoever. I just applied to prolly refresh my interview skills. XD_

 _To anyone reading 'A Span of Sixty Years' I am doing a big backtrack outline so updates will take longer. However, I am really determined to finish it._

 _Thank you so much for your time reading this. Your feedback is greatly appreciated. It makes me think more scenarios and just... *Squeals*_

 _(If I follow through with all the stories and ideas I had in stock, I will be a Susan/anyone that could make her happy, crossover corner. XD)_


	7. Cat

Aslan could remember the night Susan established that she would differ from her family and from any other monarch of Narnia. He knew that whatever He could and would do, this daughter of Eve would react unlike her siblings would. Every time He looked back to the memory, He was also reminded that it was one of the reasons He hailed her as The Gentle.

"No one is told any story but their own."

It was the first night of peace and it was spent in celebration. He had walked amid His people, basking in the warmth and the optimism of a new age. The Deep Magic had finally breathed unhindered. The Deeper Magic had flowed as it had always been. Narnia, the land itself, had sung a song He hadn't heard before and to this He listened intently.

His to-be monarchs had asked Him variations of the same question, and He had answered the same way.

"No one is told a story but their own."

To this, Peter bowed and accepted, thought it was an echo of the chance and power he was blessed with to make his own story. His dear Lucy, understood it as a child of her eyes of wonder would. Of the mysteries of the world that she would understand later. Edmund had been meaning to ask and Aslan knew of all the possibilities. He understood when the young one just nodded, thoughts of overstepping and gratitude pushing back his doubts.

"They are mine." Susan Pevensie, yet to be crowned, had looked at Him with blue eyes tinted by the great fires. "They've always been and will be mine."

A silence followed caused by His surprise. Of all the possibilities, she took that choice.

"I'm sorry. That was presumptuous of me."

"No. Speak your mind, Susan."

She took a deep breath and her gaze returned to the celebration. He knew, even without watching that she sought her siblings. Peter who was caught between an arguing Mrs. Beaver and Oreius. Lucy who was being taught by Tumnus and a group of fauns a dance. Edmund bundled up and sitting close to one of the smaller fires, resting against Phillip's side.

"My parents, the war, and that world," She started slow and soft, chewing her words and making sure they sounded right. "They are mine. They are a part of my story. I may not like aspects of them, but they are mine. They are my beginnings. This is why I need to know."

She paused to follow Peter with her eyes. The older brother moving to approach Edmund, bearing a tray of food and a pillow. A calm came to her and he could feel it. "Especially—"

A pause. Peter sat beside Edmund and nudged him with his shoulder.

"Especially, if it is your plan to leave us under Narnia's care. I doubt it is the other way, for we are but children. Heroes they might think us, but children still. Then, Narnia will be my story too and I will be hers. But I need to know what would happen to what I left behind, given that I have the chance to know."

Narnia's song had shifted back then.

"Why do you think it so, Susan?"

It had been one of Susan's surest moments.

"I choose it to be so, Aslan."

Narnia made a decision back then too, hailing Susan Pevensie as her Queen before He could even crown her.

* * *

Through all Susan's experiences with time travel and world jumping, she only felt and summoned her unbridled anger once. The first time. It didn't come immediately, but when it did it was too much for her too young, too small body to contain. It leaked out of her every pore and wheezed with every breath. Her insides were in constant fever that demanded action. It wasn't because of her sudden disability of a too small body. It was the last thing to sink in.

 _Guilt._ Fifteen years of peace was nothing compared to a bondage of hundred years before. _Panic._ Their layers upon layers of contingency plans weren't tested to this extent. However, they should work for a few years. A few years too few compared to the hundred years of winter. _Fear_. Fifteen years was too short for all the possibilities of what could happen after they're gone. _Anger._

 _Anger._

She should've been more adamant in telling her siblings to let the chase rest. She should've been more thorough in making contingency plans. She should've foreseen this. She should've just stayed, maybe the Lion would've given them more time. She should've begged that that wish wasn't needed with all that they already have so much. So many ' _should've'_ incidents went through her mind in quick cycles.

The anger sunk with her heart when Narnia's song quieted a month later.

Susan now felt the anger, but she bridled it and buried it as deep as she could. Why? There was no longer any use for it. She buried it under layers of grief, calculated smiles, unspoken guilt, and a small spark of curiosity.

"I had plans, you know." She rested her arms against the banister of her room's balcony. The cooling breeze a signal to the dying daylight. She had done nothing notable after she excused herself from Harry. She wandered around the mansion for a few moments, only to end up back in her bed to catch up with her sleep. "I promised to help Holly with some of the costume designs for the kindergarten theater show. I wanted to bring Mulligan to the sea. The trafficking was my mission to do as soon as I was back. There was also an assassination in the lineup. SHIELD was to send its information on the London bomb scares. Arthur wanted me to check on the new sniper upgrades."

She chuckled and then turned to the Lion that lounged _on_ the balcony banister. "I doubt they would need my opinion now. Outdated as I am, at this point."

"I'm sure you do not believe that, my Queen." How Aslan could still look majestic while balancing His large form and resting on the banister, Susan believed only Lucy could understand. "You will be the last to discount the use of the old ways. You will also fight for said use with tooth and nail to prove it."

Susan rolled her eyes at His statement.

"And, you'll win."

Her shoulders shook as she contained another bout of chuckles. The anger that wanted to lash out and ask its questions slithering further to the depths, understanding. Questions would rarely get her straightforward answers, for the Lion rarely gives them.

"These lands already have their own set of heroes, gods, and knights. What need would they have of me? What would they get out of being my story?" She reached out and stroked his mane. "My story feels stretched too far, too long and too broad at this point."

"This world in time may have heroes, gods, and knights, but it lacks a Narnian when it will direly need one. In return, I believe a Queen would need heroes, gods, and knights, would she not?"

 _Will direly need one._ That made Susan wonder. Her mind preparing for the guesswork.

"I was ready to live my life there, Aslan."

"We both know that you're readier to die for your cause or survive through the motions of your day to day, than live said life."

"I was so sure I'll figure that one out with time."

Aslan rumbled a laugh and Susan didn't stop her smile.

"Make your happiness here, my beloved Susan. Always onward, aren't those your words?"

"This will be the last time."

"This will be your last world."

The relief that flooded into her wasn't for those she lost and left behind. She was sure that they've found their happiness and peace in Aslan's country. Narnia wouldn't allow anything otherwise, and she got the impression that her siblings would be grilling her former workmates for stories. The relief was for those that she could still possibly leave. A meddling god wasn't a variable that could be controlled in an equation.

"Then I'll give happiness another try."

"That will be enough."

* * *

"Pardon?" Susan blinked at Harry. "You want to what?"

"As we said, we want to accompany you to the activities you've planned with Captain Rogers as substitutes. A Kingsman a day."

"Why?"

She didn't expect this when Roxy and Eggsy showed up at her doorstep. She knew that it got Eggsy excited and Roxy thinking, but the first that her mind latched on was training. Some would think it would be too soon given how she 'time traveled' but to her, to her body the days just carried on. She's adjusting on that part, as one would with timezones, but it also sought the routine she had even with the emotional toll. All she could think about the moment Steve disappeared was to get back to active duty as soon as possible. To act. To do something familiar. She didn't picture standing in Merlin's lab as close to dumbfounded as a Queen would allow amid relative strangers.

She didn't consider this possibility and it bothered her that they were the one reaching out first and in this way. She was still a person of suspicion, especially in terms of loyalty. A layer in her mind was already going through patterns of subterfuge and without prompt, built counters for them. She might not even use them, but it was a good learning activity to do.

 **DOWNSIDE OF SUCH ACTIVITY:**

 **1\. The sincerity of a person is often considered last.**

"You don't have to do it." She looked at them one by one.

"It'll be like a get to know each other activity. Icebreakers, innit?"

She arched an eyebrow at that. "So, would this still be under the mission protocol?"

Hit.

Eggsy tried not to jerk but there was a pause in his movements and a flicker of a reaction in his eyes. His body moved, just a bit, to Harry's direction. Roxy stiffened. Merlin and Harry looked like the revelation was nothing but a talk of the weather. She hid a smile at that.

"Look Susan, we want to do it. Today was supposed to be dancing, but instead you spent it in your room doing god-knows-what." Roxy was openly annoyed, while still toeing around on how to interact with her. Her choice though, Susan liked. There's always an incentive in being straightforward. The nuances though made her wonder if Roxy was aware of what she's doing. How if the situation was different, Roxy's answer was an appeal to both Susan's logic, emotion, and even trust. Mostly her logic. It also had an undertone of steel, which she admired. Susan was tempted to tell her that whatever she was doing was indeed known by _God._ "I'm supposed to drive you there, remember?"

To Roxy, Susan Pevensie was a curiosity. She had a few ideas of where that stemmed from.

"We know that what you've planned with Captain Rogers is special. We do not aim to disrespect it. We could do something different." Harry was right, to a degree. It was her chance for a semblance of a transition of sorts. An activity where she wasn't as desperate as she was during her previous visits. "But, I do wish to dance with you."

To Harry Hart, Susan Pevensie was the found lost sheep, to be protected even more. She found that a bit concerning.

"Come on. We want to do it. We really fucking do." Eggsy almost reminded her of Peter. Almost. It might be the similar edge on their smirks. It may also be the boy's charm. He was also the first to continuously reach out to her and make her smile. "It's like a welcome party, eh? You want to know the people you're gonna work with, don't ya? We want to."

To Eggsy, Susan Pevensie was a kindred soul. She's yet to figure out why.

"We?" She aimed her question at Merlin with a smirk _implied_. She moved her body a bit forward in interest. She knew and wanted that he detect it. She wanted him to take the bait of the challenge.

His shoulders shifted back and he leaned deeper to his chair. His elbows settled on the armrests. His lips thinned for an instant, while the crease on his forehead stayed a bit longer. Movements anyone would miss if they weren't looking for it.

To Merlin, Susan Pevensie was a threat. She relished the thought.

"We."

She bit her lip and tilted her head forward, her hair hiding her smile. Mischief skipped around her mind, browsing through options of how to pull a new reaction from the man. If she was indeed given a chance to stay longer, she would definitely enjoy figuring out his buttons. She internally sighed and opened her eyes. The amusement and excitement would be dealt with later.

"Shopping with Roxy for tomorrow. Ice cream with Eggsy the day after. Dancing with Harry." Now that she thought of it, she never really gave Merlin any reason to trust her. "An HQ tour with Merlin, to end it."

"I'm labelling it a date, Susan."

"I won't change my mind on that proposal, Eggsy."

She met Merlin's gaze and let a soft smile through. She remembered from experience, that if she did get his trust, he would be one great ally. Merlin looked at her with his own head tilted to the side. He's probably wondering all the possible reasons for her choices.

Sleep came easier to Susan that night and with it, grief stepped a bit to the side to let hope have a place.

* * *

" _Calm down._ Rox."

"I'm calm, _Eggy."_ Roxy hissed from her place on the other end of Eggsy's old couch.

"Then stop damn shiftin'."

The _old couch_ was an intriguing monstrosity that Eggsy picked up from a dump and dragged all the way to his HQ quarters. When Roxy first saw it, an armrest was ripped off and a part of the base could barely support the cushioning. The leather had been faded and torn. She had trained a gun on it just in case some rodents come out, or worse, cockroaches. Merlin be damned.

"I am not shifting." She kicked off her heels and folded her legs under to prove a point. The couch now sported a patchwork of old and new upholstery aside from the fixed basework. The missing armrest though was shaped into a guillotine's neck rest. It's an eyesore, but it's very comfortable. "I still can't believe you dragged this fucking couch here without checking for fucking mites. Merlin would've killed you!"

She thought she would never see Merlin's face broken between mortification, confusion, and murderous intent. Now the cause stood across Eggsy's bed as a sometimes footstool.

"Yeah. Yeah. I still have my neck and I should be fucking thankful." He waved his hand at her and shrugged, not even bothering to look up from his phone. "There's a reason I brought it around that time. Can we please just let this go?"

"Merlin still saw!"

"And I still have the couch." His fingers flew tapping across the phone screen.

"Who are you talking to?"

That took his attention. In three moves, he had locked, twirled, and slipped his phone back to his inside coat pocket. The fourth was his signature lopsided grin. "Mom. I was asking if she'd be okay if I bring Susan along for lunch."

"That's too forward for someone not your girlfriend. And isn't it supposed to be ice cream?"

"Harry said a Kingsman a day. Lunch is daytime."

"We just met her what? Four or five days ago!"

"I met Harry when he let me out the precinct and look where it got me. He looked like a damn shady politician back then too."

"This is different!"

He had the gall to shrug it off. She gritted her teeth. There's no talking him out when it comes to this. It wasn't even the matter of trust that bothered her. It was the awareness of plans brewing all around them. Plans of which she had no idea what the details were, but knew full well that they're being used as pawns.

"Stop shifting. Want me to come along tomorrow? Bag boy extraordinaire, at your service for a very affordable fee."

"Kingsman a day, Eggy."

"You know she won't mind if you bring her to the places you go to for clothes."

"She doesn't seem the type."

"You'll know that tomorrow. My services are still offered. Also, stop shifting."

"I'm _not_ shifting."

"Yeah. You're not." He looked damn angelic saying that. The way he dared to mess with her was still something she slightly regretted in allowing. "You still shift a damn lot when sky diving though."

"Fuck off, Eggsy."

"You'll be fine, Rox."

His phone pinged and he damn smirked at her before pulling it out. An idea sparked in her mind. It might work. She pulled her own phone out.

"Fuck!"

"What?"

"I forgot it's Daisy's recital that afternoon."

"Wanna swap?"

"Nah. You really just need to relax and trust a bit."

"That's strange to hear, coming from you in relation to the events that got us here."

The page she was searching loaded and it was her turn to smirk.

"It's bollocks to stress over things out of our control."

"But there are things we can control."

* * *

Notes:

Thank you to all the wonderful people who spend their time reading, reviewing, and giving kudos to this.

Also, I guess this needs saying... I guess.

I ship Susan Pevensie with anyone and everyone that could give her happiness. So... yes, if you notice that things are getting shippy... that's me indulging myself. Also me trying to alleviate my need to write a separate fics for the said ships because I don't have the time or the luxury.

My profile is pretty much all... about... Susan just getting her happiness... in some way. Also, Anna Popplewell has a countenance of which you can ship her with anyone and it will look aesthetically damn pleasing.

She's just one of my girl crushes okay?


	8. Passionate

Susan, if one would ask Roxy for the most fitting word, was like a child in an amusement park. An utterly adorable child. She and Eggsy agreed when she sent the latest candid video. Given, she was already streaming it back to HQ the usual way, but there was a need to keep the memories for later. Knowing Merlin, there's a great chance the feed would be encrypted a thousand times over just for security.

It was far from anything ridiculous, just Susan crouching down to look closer at one of those cheap mechanical toy dogs being promoted. What made it adorable was how her face mimicked the young boy's that was beside her. Twin looks of wonder.

 _"Look. Look. It's backing up!"_

 _"Why? Is something wrong?"_

 _"Just watch. Don't blink!"_

Susan's surprise when the toy dog did a backflip was caught crystal.

 _"By the Lion!"_

 _"That's so cool!"_

 _"Do they always land upright?"_

 _"Not always. That's what makes it exciting!"_

"Where to next?"

Roxy blinked and looked up from her phone and pushed up her eyeglasses. Susan stood beside her looking around, her body swaying slightly as she swung the new bag she held. It was a small cloth bag that she purchased from one of the stores. For the little trinkets, she said.

Roxy was damn proud of her achievement. The shopping district's bazaar was the perfect choice just by the jaw drop.

"Where do you want to go?" They already got two bags of various clothing necessities. Necessities being something Susan needed while not incurring her shock and ire of the price. Roxy got her reaction filmed too, even her rant that she would definitely pay back. It was quite a sight. "I doubt this would last you long enough."

Roxy did slip a few extra pieces that she knew Susan would need. Those were definitely pricier, but not by much. The trinket bag and its contents were the only things Susan was adamant of getting.

"Well, I can always do the laundry. What necessities do you think I still need?"

Roxy hid her giddy excitement of being offered the control. "They're not necessities in the traditional sense of the word, but if you really want to try what I have in mind, you can't say no."

"Are you sure of these words?"

"Yeah."

"I'm in."

 _ **XXXXXX**_

"I do not need an ongoing commentary while I am working." Merlin did his best to keep his voice level. It was hard, because he was trying to work.

"Come on, Merlin. She was so cute."

Eggsy came barreling into his lab the first moment Roxy's feed started. He just walked in, rolled a seat to his side and just plopped onto it. Merlin was then audience to his junior Kingsmen gushing over the reactions of a time displaced woman plopped into the modern world.

"Ye've said that before." He rolled his eyes as he started security coding the newly decoded files from Mordred. "Repeating it doesn't change anything."

"Do you even watch these?"

He sighed. "I do when I am not an audience to a live commentary."

"Or you just hate women shopping."

He did watch the live feed every now and then. He had a smaller window of the same live feed in the corner of one of the screens he's working on. A really small one for appearance's sake, because Eggsy had taken about a whole third of his screens for the live feed. He had taken to listen more for her speech patterns, tone and inflections. An analysis if it was as nuanced as her expressions and body language. An experiment on whether she also had mastery over it as she had with the other two.

"Hmm. Is the blue blouse really that expensive? She looked pretty good in it."

Roxy's hum filled the lab with a few rustles of cloth. Susan's movements taking the background. "That's not that expensive. I definitely wouldn't buy it before I became a Kingsman though."

 _"Susan, are you sure you don't want this?"_

 _"It's too expensive."_

 _"I'm putting it here anyway."_

 _"Roxy, no."_

 _"You can't say no."_

"Damn good move that one, Rox."

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath to stem the annoyance somewhere else. He collapsed the security coded files and leaned back to his chair. He would just need to review the live feed later and try to see if what he heard matched with what her expressions were.

 _"Roxy, you're jesting. I definitely don't need leather pants. It looks tighter than the skinny jeans. My poor pores."_

 _"Pair it with this shirt and tuck it in. Don't even try to say no."_

 _"Oh, I hope we're done after this."_

Roxy's chuckle had Merlin finally turning to look at the live feed. _"We've barely started."_

He was welcomed with a sight of Susan holding up before her the leather pants. It was black and it did look a bit on the tight side. That was all he was able to think of because Roxy started pushing her to the closest dressing room. _"Well then, take your time and call me if you need help."_

 _"Alright."_

Roxy turned away the moment the door closed and moved to a clothes rack of a considerable distance. Merlin saw a flash of her earphones, a bud put in, and then she started collecting more clothes.

 _"You're getting this?"_

"Aye and I would have ye and Eggsy run five laps when this is done." He ignored Eggsy's hanging mouth when he cut in.

"Aw, Merlin."

"Ten laps with weights if ye don't stop now. I do not need an ongoing commentary." He was calling this a misuse of company tech and he'd have to do something about it later on.

 _"Deal."_

"Deal." Eggsy was so damned smug that he didn't even have to look at him to see the sure smile. "Do you have any more pictures and videos to send over?"

 _"Of course. I took a few when she asked if we could buy that kid a dog, and Eggsy, did you see how torn she was? She was horrified it was, to her, expensive, but she really wanted to give the boy a dog. Colin, the boy, was absolutely taken with her. It didn't even matter if she could buy him a dog or not. They hit it off fantastically._ "

"Ye bought a dog?" A dog was definitely not what was in Merlin's mind when he remembered what he heard earlier. A dog was also a plenty of responsibility and he doubts the boy's parents would just agree because—

"A toy one, Merlin. Those that do a backflip. Daisy had one at one point. They are very easy to break though."

 _"I get why she's torn. More than the cost she's probably computing the lifetime of the toy. She's mentally computing ever since the first one."_

"Her reaction to the ripped jeans was gold."

 _"Her nose scrunches are adorable."_

The thought that he should've watched the feed along with Eggsy crossed his mind, because he couldn't relate. He pushed that thought back from where it came. It would be better to just review the feed later and try to get some work done. Eggsy likely wouldn't budge from his place and whatever he dish out to them would only urge them on.

Aye. Work it was then.

 _"Roxy."_

The feed shifted.

"Fucking hell."

 _"Oh. My."_

 _"This feels like a corset, but for legs."_

Merlin felt his throat catch at the sight. A realization that he had never really looked at her until now came. He had been too distracted by his thoughts and suspicions to really look past what she represented to the Kingsman. Now he saw her past the threat and past his questions, because dressed like that, she looked _real._ She looked like every other woman her age that would walk the streets of London. An ordinary beautiful young woman.

 _"I thought you already left."_

 _"And miss your reaction? Remind me to bring you clubbing."_

 _"I will do my best to forget that."_

"I fucking won't."

He looked away, but the image burned in his mind's eye. Another realization followed and it made him turn back to the live feed. No, not ordinary.

 _"You've worn corsets before?"_

 _"No. This is what I've thought how it would feel, theoretically."_

He had seen plenty of women in his life, loved some and found all of them beautiful in their own way. There were those that he was floored by their undeniable beauty at first look, then he moved on. Susan didn't fit that mold. Maybe, if he was a stranger he would've looked back to know what was it about her that made her stand out. The thing was, he already had the advantage of knowing and still he couldn't help but look again. There was something more to figure out and it was a fact. More than her secrets. More than the details of her past.

She stood there with an air of wonder and innocent contemplation which clashed against the undercurrent of a pull that charged the room. He didn't miss how every person in the shop turned to look at her and how most of those gazes stayed.

The pants hugged her legs as leather often would, but the fact that her shirt was tucked in gave an impression that her legs were longer. The white shirt was loose which only helped with the highlighting. It was also a bit too big, because it slipped off a shoulder and he was transfixed at how her clavicle moved when she shrugged.

He cursed himself at that.

 _"It's not as comfortable as the jeans, but I can see why people would want to wear such. It feels a bit like armor."_

 _"So I'm buying it."_

 _"No! I saw the price tag, Roxy. No."_

"Rox, do tell her that she looks hot."

No, Merlin thought. She should've been hot in that getup. She would be able to seduce anyone to their knees if she so wanted. But, hot wasn't the right word. The air around her didn't drip with power or seduction. Instead, it was curiosity and a degree of openness that he only now noticed. The light in her eyes was definitely one of excitement. All this over an allure that he thought wasn't a fitting label still.

 _"No, Roxy. You will not buy me something so expensive that I might never wear again."_

 _"Ah. You said might, and you can't say no."_

 _"Roxy."_

 _"You'll need it when we go clubbing."_

Susan sighed, Roxy smiled, and Eggsy chuckled by his side. _"Is there even a point in this?"_

Roxy laughed. _"You're the one who wanted to go shopping, Su."_

 _"At least let me pay you back when I could."_

 _"We'll see."_

No. Susan Pevensie wasn't hot.

 _"Now, let's check out micros and minis!"_

 _"Minis...and now, there're micros. Lion help me."_ The freckles on her face shifted as she scrunched her nose.

Sublime.

 _ **XXXXXX**_

Josh was pulled out of his desk when Nancy poked her head in his little security office. That was different because he hadn't seen anyone shoplifting yet. The bazaar crowd was yet to arrive and with it, the unsavory individuals. So, when Nancy motioned him to come with her, he was prepared to kick out whoever was causing problems. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and rolled his broad shoulders. Hopefully, they would be intimidated enough by his height and built before it came to physical hits.

He expected a sexual harassment issue when he saw the ladies by the counter. He was halfway an outline of things to do when he reached them.

"I'm really sorry for pulling you out of your office, sir." The lady with darker hair and blue eyes started the conversation. Her companion, a hazel-eyed, dirty blonde lady with glasses stayed a few steps back. He could feel his fury spike and looked around for anyone who could've compromised them. He hated it when these incidents happen. The ladies were only having a good time with their shopping and they don't deserve any of these troubles. They shouldn't be suffering the trauma of having their personal space invaded and the dirty feeling of being violated. He would give the bloke a punch before personally delivering him to the police. Maybe a kick on the sheen too.

"Miss Nancy told me you were the one in charge of the play...list."

"...eh?" That made him blink. His fury turned to another direction and made him grit his teeth. "I apologize Miss if a song offended you."

"No. No. Not at all. I just wanted to know the title of a song and who sang it."

"Oh?"

He blinked again at Miss Sapphire Black. The fury died so quickly he was still reeling at its leftovers.

"Yes. Nothing unsavory, I assure you." She pulled out a receipt from the bag she held and patted her dress pockets for a pen. He automatically took the one under the counter and held it out to her. Her eyes smiled as she took it. "Thank you. I hope it wouldn't be much trouble."

"Uhm." Josh waited as she flipped the receipt and smoothed it out on the counter. "Do you remember the tune or some of the lyrics? It also helps if you remember how many songs ago it was."

"About three songs ago. The tune went like this." She hummed a few bars and waved the pen like a chorister's stick. Her eyes were trained on something to his right. "... _Just keep following the heartlines on your hand. Just keep following the heartlines on your hand. Keep it up! I know you ca—"_

Her voice cracked and she blushed. He couldn't help smiling at that. She had a decent voice. He believed she would be able to reach that note if she didn't sing it softly. That song wasn't one to be sung in a whisper. It wouldn't be an outstanding cover, but it wouldn't be a bad one.

"I know what song that is. The artist is one of my favorites." He motioned to the pen and paper. His grin was ecstatic because he's ever ready to talk about music. "If you like, I can also recommend you some more artists to listen to."

"Yes. Please!" She passed it to him and then leaned over the counter to get a better look at what he wrote.

He wrote down the title and the artist, then wrote a few more of the artist's songs that he thought she would enjoy listening first.

"How is that read?" She pointed at the artist's name.

"And. It's read as 'and' but is stylized as a plus. You can just use 'and' when searching for them on the net though. Florence and the Machine. Here." He pushed the paper to her so she could read the things he listed. "These artists are the closest in terms of genre and style."

"Many thanks."

He motioned to the list he made.

"So yeah. Here's the song title, the album it's in, and the artist. Then these are the recommendations in the same format. You can easily find them on the net. They're not as mainstreamed, but they're good. I really hope that you'll like them."

"Thank you so much. I'll make sure to listen to them as soon as I am able. I'm sure I will like them."

"Y-you don't have to say that before you even hear them."

"Oh. Don't worry. I have a feeling."

"How can you be sure?" He always felt a bit awkward when recommending songs. Especially when they weren't the mainstream ones, but she looked like she really enjoyed the song that's why he couldn't stop himself.

"You really liked them. Your eyes were so luminous when you wrote the songs down, and if they are similar to what took my attention, I am confident that I will like them for one reason or another."

"W-well if you want some more songs to listen to, feel free to come back and ask. I'm always around the shop this time before going to my classes in uni."

"What do you take?"

"Huh?"

She smiled as she folded the receipt. "What course do you take in your university?"

"Ah. Right. Sound design."

"Sound design? Is it similar to being a musician?"

"You can say that, but there's also something more about it. Like sound effects in movies. You know how sound must fit the scene? Or a creature in relation to the story? Those sort of things and more."

"Can you tell me more? This is the first time I've heard of this. Well of many things really, but it sounds so intriguingly specific."

"Really?"

"Yes. Please do."

Josh didn't know how, but he ended up telling her not only about the subject but also about his classes. She asked about the ways they learn since it was about something almost intangible, and he told her. He explained jargons to the best of his abilities and enjoyed when the confusion on her face breaks into comprehension. He even told her of his professors and some of his projects at some point. She asked loaded questions that made him think and consider how he approached his craft. She also told him of her thoughts about music and how so many aspects of life both influenced and affected it. He could see the passion in her too. Her face went through so many expressions when she talked about how the natural sounds of a place influenced music and how music became nature in turn.

"Do you play?" He asked at some point, thinking that maybe he could find more music to recommend by knowing.

"Yes, though not as often as back then. I play the harp, and I am not proud in saying that I chose it for practical reasons, but in the end I love it all the same."

"That is what's important. I was the same when I started with the piano. You know how parents will always choose piano."

A giggle broke their conversation. Josh flinched in surprise before realizing that it was Hazel Blonde that giggled. He and Sapphire Black stared at her confused.

"I'm really sorry." Amusement and light-hearted guilt. "I didn't know how to intrude and say introductions would be nice. At this point, I guess you're friends already."

He could feel the heat crawling up his neck and cheeks. He should've introduced himself, especially since he was part of the staff. Sapphire Black's laughter took his attention and cut off his thoughts.

"I doubt it's too late." She turned to him and held out a hand. "Susan."

"Joshua. You can call me Josh. It's nice to meet you."

"So this is a family business? Are you Nancy's older or younger brother?"

He shook her hand and let it go to scratch the back of his head. "Yes. Our eldest sister started it. Nancy and I help around when we could. I'm younger than her."

He turned to Hazel Blonde before he and Susan kicked it off to talking about another set of topics and the world faded away. "And you are?"

"Roxy. A pleasure. I'm showing Susan around and bullying her to wear clothes."

"The pleasure is mine."

He felt a pat on his arm and turned to see Susan pulling back her hand where she touched him. "We've kept you for too long already. I'm really sorry."

"Don't. I enjoyed our talk. It's very refreshing. I look forward to talking to you again."

She returned the pen and stepped back, slipping her list to a dress pocket. "I look forward to talking to you as well. It's a delight."

 _ **XXXXXX**_

"Come in."

Susan took the third deep breath ever since she stood before the lab's door. Then, she pushed open the door, and poked her head and upper body through the gap to look inside the room. She shouldn't be here for so many reasons. First, it was half an hour before midnight. Second, she didn't even know how to deliver what she came here for and it could backfire grandly. Third, she could wait till the morning and could ask someone else for her questions. Did she though? No. She shooed Roxy to her own bed the moment the shopping bags were dropped in her guest room. She lied when Roxy asked if she needed anything else. Fourth,—

"Miss Pevensie." Merlin was really obvious with how much he didn't trust her, or at least the gap that was between them. "Come in. Do you need something?"

She stepped into the lab and approached Merlin, her eyes gravitating to the screens. Every time she went into this room, her eyes would always turn to the screens. Always. The information they contained was fascinating just for the sheer amount it presented and how the man could work comfortably with it. She admired it all. She stopped by the edge of his desk and placed a medium sized bag on it. She could feel his eyes move from her to the bag, then back to her. The awkward air between them was an understatement.

"I'm sorry for disturbing. I'm just here to deliver this and ask for some assistance." She pushed the bag a bit closer to him and dropped her hand. "The latter can wait till tomorrow. Both really."

"What can I assist you on?" He moved his chair to face her and sat back.

Susan always thought he had an intense gaze. Harry retained a softness, however little, in his eyes at almost every expression she saw so far. Eggsy's had a glint of a man proud of his work. Roxy's contained a sharpness, a clue of the energy to act just under the surface. These were as constant as the knowing and calculating glint they all had. Merlin's eyes held an intensity that could pin one's attention while laying down a challenge.

Given, these were impressions of the first few days, but there was a reason she started their acquaintances the way she did. Surprise always showed a split second truth.

She slipped the receipt out of her dress pocket and reached out to give it to him. He met her halfway and took it. She waited as he unfolded it and read its contents. The tiled floor was cold and his face was calm through it all.

"These are songs." It was a short list compared to the length of the receipt. She memorized it as they shopped, pulling it out to read every chance she could get.

"Yes." She confirmed. She didn't understand why she should though. Roxy wore the glasses and that would mean it was part of the mission. She was monitored all through the shopping. Her activities would be reported. She also caught Roxy talking to whoever was on the other line. She assumed it would be him since he was the one in the lab. In the end, she played along. "Yes. I was taken by a song from one shop's playlists and asked. The young man was kind enough to tell and give me recommendations too. If it's not a big trouble, I would like to have a way to listen to at least one. I am not sure if there's still vinyl records at this age and I don't really know what the 'net' the young man told me was."

"Internet." She blinked and cocked her head to the side at his words. Merlin dropped the list on his desk beside what looks like an odd keyboard.

"Internet? Inter...net. Oh. Is it like a fishing net?" She joked and saw a twinkle in his eyes as she tried the word out. A first amid all his suspicion and politeness. Her mind raced through the conversation she had with Josh and how he spoke about this 'net'. "No. A network. An international network. Is it?"

The twinkle grew brighter and there was an almost smile on his lips. That was a small observation amid revelations that filled her though. Her mind flashed through clues she found of this time and the possibilities of its meaning. An international information network accessible by even the commonfolk. She thought of the radios and televisions during her time. The technology that created Project Rebirth and Howard Stark's attempts in technological advancement. Her eyes jumped between the screens and Merlin. She remembered the phone that Steve, Roxy, and the general populace had. She remembered Narnia and the information network she and Edmund created. Of how she took advantage of Narnian variety to ensure Narnia's safety and prosperity. How far that information network reached with just the right choice of fitting Animals.

She was breathless at the truth that was implied before her.

"You were able to make an international information network accessible to all, with enough power and space to contain god knows how much information. In. Sixty. Years." She didn't realize that she had taken a few steps forward, watching Merlin for any sort of reaction. "Back in my day, we were still attempting to make flying cars and fingerprint scanners, but there's a definite race for such network. Yes, we direly needed and had a start with such information technology and scrambled to improve it, but I didn't expect such a leap in six decades!"

"The world is ruled by information." He stood and moved to another side of the room. Her gaze went back to the screens, trying to decipher the information that was there.

"A universal and time immemorial truth." Her gaze returned to him as she replied. She was still floored at the prospect of such advancement and her admiration to this man just grew. She wondered how Howard Stark took it. How he bolstered and helped with the advancement. She thought of how Edmund would revel in the information of this age. He would absorb it all up as she wanted to do now. She could see his face, tamed smile and bright eyes. If it was as she assumed, there's so much power available to the world now and it's just at the tip of the fingertips.

"Sit down." She blinked her eyes clear as she surfaced from her thoughts. She saw him rolling a chair to her direction. "This might be a bit too much to take in, even for a very summarized version."`

She did as instructed, watching as he took his own seat, pulled at the sleeves of his jumper, and moved closer to his desk. He motioned to the screens. "The world is run by information. The internet is just a part of how it works. It's not only an information network but a communications one as well. These computers, the smartphones, and many other gadgets are just means of making and accessing the information, among other things."

"Smartphones. You mean the one that Steve and Roxy have? They look so delicate." She remembered holding Steve's phone and marveling at how simple it was. She knew it was a phone just by the first glance of how it worked, but it felt like it could slip and crash on the floor so easily. "And you mean to say that they aren't just phones anymore?"

"Ye can think of them as mini computers, because they can do more than just calling someone now. The ones issued by the Kingsman are pretty sturdy."

She felt like he was going to say something else in line of that, but there's none. There's pride in his gaze though. Clue enough.

She took a deep breath and held a hand up. "Wait. Need to process."

"Take yer time." There was amusement in his voice, but there was also genuine understanding.

Susan considered it a rare blessing, being a witness to two people's ardent passion of their craft. She inched just a bit closer to see the controlled but undeniable enthusiasm in his gaze. Indeed, it was a blessing. It reminded her of Josh and even more beings that she crossed paths with throughout her lives. She wanted to see him succeed at whatever endeavor he was taking. She wanted that light in his eyes to inhabit it longer. She tampered her smile before it showed and looked back to the screens.

"All right. Tell me. One by one." His brow raised at that and she carried on to finish. "Summarized beginner version."

"Please." She added because she was sure she wouldn't be able to sleep until she had something to chew on.

He did after a long drink of coffee. He explained each to her in words she could understand or in analogies that she could comprehend. He always asked if she had questions and if she wanted him to repeat anything. He would give her time and watch her expressions after every subtopic, taking sips of his coffee while doing so. She would repeat and summarize what she understood, making sure that she got it right. He would point out her misunderstandings and patiently explain to her again. He would also quiz her with quick and simple questions. The first part of their discussion felt like a few hours, but in truth was only one.

"Alright. This ain't a standard computer, so there would be quite a lot of differences. Later on, I'll show ye a standard one and probably a laptop. I'll also teach ye how to use it."

"You will?"

"A Kingsman agent must know these things to some extent, and I oversee the trainings of all agents. For now, I will demonstrate ye a few things." He picked her list. "Let's start with yer songs."

He walked her through every step of purchasing an album. Showed her how it was done and would repeat some of it if she missed or asked. He even let her purchase an album herself and he also let her make little mistakes. Anything drastic he guided her away from and explained to her what could happen. Viruses were said a lot among others. He also briefly told her how multitasking worked, which floored her again.

"Wait."

"Is something wrong?" His typing paused and his hands moved away from the keys. She looked up at him and tried to find the right words. She knew with how he waited that he expected it to be another question.

"You paid for those albums. I should be the one paying."

"Ah."

He looked sweet with that realization on his face that Susan couldn't help but shake her head in amusement. "I'll pay you back."

"No need."

"But—"

"Think of it as a welcome gift."

"But—"

"Also, it's hardly a dent on my paycheck."

She pouted. He gave her a blank look. She sighed. "Thank you."

"No problem." He typed a few more things. "Shall we listen to some of them?"

"Yes, please."

She watched as he went through the songs in a search and smiled when he picked the one that started it all. The one she heard in the shop.

Susan closed her eyes when the first beats floated into the room. She had frozen in shock back in the shop, and disbelief plus amazement fluttered in her core. This time, when the drums started beating, she let her mind go. The drums were echoed by faun and centaur hooves as soon as she did. The vocals reminded her of dryads and the merpeople. The whole song transported her to a fitting memory. The dirt and the grass under her feet. Narnian breeze on her tongue. The wildness she always laid to rest within her bones thumped with the beat. It clawed its way out.

 _We will carry..._

 _We will carry you there..._

Her skin prickled with the feeling of movement. She could feel the air moving. Twirling bodies and wide open arms. Laughter and songs. Dryads with their raised arms and flowing bodies. Fauns with their linked hands and skipping circles. Centaurs with their deep voices as they stomped their hooves. Heat filled her veins and the bonfires' warmth only heightened it. The beat carried on and grew louder. Voices blended into a wonderful cacophony of savagery.

 _Just keep following,_

 _The heartlines on your hand!_

 _Just keep following,_

 _The heartlines on your hand!_

 _Keep it up!_

 _I know you can!_

 _Just keep following,_

 _The heartlines on your hand!_

 _Cause I am..._

She saw Lucy reaching out to grab her hand. Calloused fingers wrapped tight around her own. She returned it and felt her heart soar. Air rushed around her faster as they spun together in dizzying speed. Her sister's hair blazed like fire. Her throat tightened and tears prickled the corners of her eyes. Lucy slowed and laughed, twirling her around. Hands wrapped around her waist and lifted her. Edmund. Dark eyes fire blessed and his lips stretched to a smirk. His shoulders were steady as she grabbed them as he supported her back to the ground. She hugged him tight then and there, his laughter rumbling from his chest. He pulled away and offered a hand for a dance, ever the gentleman. She reached out only for her hold to be stolen by another familiar hand, twirling her around once more as Lucy giggled at the side. Edmund's surprise was the last thing to see before she saw blues. Peter. Bright grin. Shining blue eyes. The fire making his hair glimmering gold. His broad frame a reassuring comfort.

That was only the beginning. She moved through dear friends, dancing, dancing, and dancing. Wildness coursed through and into her bloodstream. Revelry filled her lungs. The lyrics fell away and got replaced by a more familiar set in its entirety. The tune and notes shifted to something strangers would call barbaric, but to her? Free.

She wanted to dance. By the Lion's Paw, she wanted to dance. The realization made everything shift back, because Narnia, she knew, was no longer a shadowland and she was in England. The wildness didn't settle back within her bones and when the song ended, she grasped at every echo. This wildness would take long to bury.

The light was too white to be bonfires. It hurt her eyes as they fluttered open. It took her a few moments and staring at nothing to calm her breathing and return to this reality. For the wildness to not tear through her skin and run artistically amok. She turned to her side when she was sure she was grounded enough.

She was given a chance to observe Merlin as he worked. A few moments. She knew he knew that she was alert. She knew that he's finishing a batch of his workload, something she had done with her own work. He gave her a glance and motioned to something before her. "Welcome back. I don't have chocolate, but I have milk."

She wondered what he saw on her face with that glance. She also wondered if he even looked. There before her was a mug of warm milk. She reached out and held it with both hands. The warmth reminded her of the dance that just occurred, memory it had been. She took a tentative sip. Calm.

"Thank you." She sighed. The wildness retreated a bit, spent and given its time. Patient and craving for a next chance.

"Here." She jerked her head up in time to see him push something across the desk to her. "This is a standard issue smartphone for Kingsman agents. This way you can listen to your music as long as you have it and it has power. This is something I'll teach you as well. Everything. For now, I'll teach you enough for you to listen to your music."

He showed her the steps the same way he had always done. The pattern almost familiar now and she followed through easily. There were things that she still knew, like how the headphones work. Though Merlin said that this one was called earphones. The phone was a sleek black set and it was probably around five inches in height or more. She had to hold it with both hands just to be able to type properly. The fear that it would slip from her hold had her be very careful.

"Tapping that symbol will shuffle your playlist. Tapping this one will repeat the playlist. Another tap and it will repeat the song." He tapped the symbols on the phone she held to demonstrate. His voice low close to her ear. "You can make playlists, but that would be a lesson for later."

She nodded and tapped the icons he showed her.

"You're already connected to the internet and the steps are similar to what we just did earlier. However, know that not all the information in the internet is reliable. As easy as it is to access it, it is the same for making up information."

"Understood." That was something she was intimate with. Making information was always easier than gaining it.

She stood up and hid her yawn behind a hand. She looked at her phone and saw the time. "Is it really 4AM?"

"Hmmmhmm." He nodded while drinking his coffee. Amusement danced as he tilted his head. "You should get some sleep. Eggsy will get you up and early for that date."

"I'm sorry. I should've been aware with the time. Or at least with how many cups of coffee you've inhaled."

"Don't be." He inclined his head forward, his lips quirking once more. "I like coffee as much as you like chocolate."

She chuckled. "I doubt it. Thank you, Merlin."

"You're welcome."

She walked to the door with her hand wrapped around her phone and earphones. The other held its box. The fatigue finally crept into her system and made her sluggish. She hoped he's wrong with Eggsy being early. Her brain still raged through all the information it got. Deconstruct and reconstruct. Amid it all, the idea of sleeping in sounded heavenly at this point.

"Miss Pevensie?"

"Hmm?" She blinked her heavy eyes alert. She found him looking at her with the same small smile.

"Pink with cherries?"

Pause. Blink. "Wha—"

Look down.

Oh. Her bare feet and painted toes welcomed her sights. Little cherries adorned every toenail.

"Roxy." She could see the fondness he held for the young woman when she answered.

"Ah." He reached out and took her gift off the table. She watched as he set it on his lap and opened it. His face morphed from curiosity to surprise, both brows raised and a little head tilt. It was just a trinket she found while walking around with Roxy.

"Is this a wake-up call that I should sleep on time?" He turned the gift this way and that before setting it back to the desk to look at her. "Or is it the size of my glasses? Makes my eyes big, doesn't it?"

She chuckled and shook her head. There sat a small wood-carved tree two hand spans high. An owl was perched on one of its branches. It held a couple of chains in its talons, which were attached to a hanging clock.

"If I wanted to give you an alarm clock, I'll choose a barn owl. Have you heard how loud they screech?"

"So, he hoots?"

She went back to his side and reached out for one of the tree roots. She pressed it and the owl hooted. Wonder filled her again. "You really have advanced in so many things."

"If only we'd advanced on the rest of them as well."

"Get some sleep, Merlin."

"Goodnight, Miss Pevensie."


	9. Work

"Did Roxy tire you out that much that you forgot about me? I'm hurt." Eggsy pouted as they waited for their orders. It was a bit later than he had planned, but Susan really looked tired when she opened her bedroom door. His excitement definitely plummeted to realistic levels that he pushed her back to her room and told her that he'll be back after another hour. The first half of the hour was spent wandering from the kitchen to the lab. Fifteen minutes later, Susan was already knocking on the lab's door and finding him. Now, they sat in the ice cream shop that was across the tailor shop. It was a quick trip which was an added plus against their late start. Susan would discreetly yawn every now and then, but was quiet all the same. "I pegged you as a morning person."

"I'm not. I just try really hard." Another yawn. "Merlin was teaching me about computers and phones. A very beginner lesson."

"So that was why!" Those words jumped out before he could stop it. Her face contorted between another yawn and confusion. "That was why he looked so amused."

"Be careful. He's probably listening."

Eggsy pushed the menu aside and leaned closer. It was obvious that there was tension between Merlin and Susan. He could try to understand both sides, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. He guessed that Merlin was still reeling from the loss of Harry, and he was the one who took it the hardest. For Susan, he could only assume that it was being alone and around people who could hurt her. Her openness probably made Merlin more suspicious too. So to hear this news, he could only imagine how it went. Were there arguments? How late did it get?

What did they even talk about to not be at each other's throat?

"Fuck that. What happened? Did he give you a phone?" There was no threatening aura coming from his comms. There's nothing from Merlin on the other side, and at this point he could deal with anything.

"Yes." She pulled out the standard issue phone from her dress pocket and placed it on the table. "He taught me the basic stuff."

"Borrow!"

He took her phone without even waiting for her reply. It took him a moment of surprise on how it wasn't obviously encrypted yet. He unlocked it with a swipe, checked her contacts and found all of their numbers already listed. He sent a quick text to himself and pulled out his own phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting your number and the wonderful act that is texting."

"Texting."

He showed her both their phones. What followed was a quick lesson on the activity. He did his best with demonstrating it to her. Soon, he gave back her phone. "Go on. Text me."

"What should I say?"

"Well, you can try something like, 'Eggsy, you are damn amazing!'"

Susan looked down on her phone, contemplating. It didn't take her that long to start typing. He took the chance to take a discreet video on how she typed. His phone pinged after some time.

FROM: UNKNOWN NUMBER

TO: Eggsy

 _You are amazing, Eggsy. Thank you._

Another ping. A heart emoji followed. He cut the video by then.

"You're welcome. Now smile."

She blinked and tilted her face, just in time for him to take a photo. He set it as her contact photo and showed her. "You can ask Merlin about the wonders of the phone camera next."

"Phones have cameras now!" She looked at the camera of her own phone.

"Yes. Our phones have fucking good ones at that too."

"I—. Do you think he'll teach me?"

"It's a given for us, but it'll probably gonna be a part of your training. Of course, he will. We'd be happy to help too."

She was going to say something more, but their orders came in and her shock was obvious at what she saw. Her eyes were glued on the blocks of dark chocolate in the ice cream she ordered. The chocolate syrup and banana slices topped the equally chocolate ice cream. He caught it all on camera, especially when she took her first taste of it.

She sighed and even moaned softly.

FROM: Eggsy

TO: Rox

 _Rox. Rox. ROX. WATCH THIS. NOW._

 _(Video attached)_

FROM: Rox

TO: Eggsy

 _OH MY. SHE IS ADDICTED TO CHOCOLATE._

"So, what is the plan after ice cream?"

"Huh?"

He paused halfway texting Roxy to look up at Susan. He hit 'send' then pocketed the phone. "Well, I was hoping to bring you to my little sister's toddler recital. I forgot about it and was asking Mom if you could join us for lunch. She cooks a fucking delicious one. But, Daisy's recital is the same day."

"Oh Eggsy, you should've told me. I don't want to intrude family time."

"You're not intruding. My mom likes meeting coworkers. She met Roxy briefly, already."

Other than the phone conversation during the Valentine debacle there was another incident. A dead drunk night out, grieving, of which he insisted that home was closer. Insisting meant a lot of whining that Roxy never let go. His mom insisted he bring her one of her cooked lunches as a thank you and sorry for the trouble gift. The blackmail material was still in Roxy's mental archive.

"Pleeeeeease."

"Only if I buy your mom and sister a gift before we go there."

"Deal. That cufflink chest you gave me was pretty rad, thanks. The carvings were fucking cool."

"My pleasure."

Two more videos were taken and sent to Roxy before the toddler recital. The first was Susan complimenting the waitress that served them until she was blushing and promised to deliver the compliments to the rest of the crew. The second one was her gushing over music with that Josh that Roxy told him more about. He had to cut it short because the discussion was too long for a sneaky video. She was very animated and Josh was a swell guy. Josh even involved him into the conversation, asking him about his taste in music and if he could recommend anything. All in all, it could still be considered a quick chat. Susan had a new list of music to listen to and a gift for his mom and little sister by the end of it.

 _ **XXXXXX**_

Michelle Unwin was a mother and her intuition had always told her that Eggsy's work was more than being a helper at a tailor shop. She had seen the shop in question, and she could imagine how rich their clients were. Definitely rich enough that they could give a housing perk to their employees. However, she was a mother, and she was aware when after days of absence, her son would've stiff muscles and fading bruises that he tried to hide. Or when there were nights where she found him in their kitchen, looking out the window with nightmare haunted eyes. She knew that whatever her son's work was, it was dangerous.

She also knew, and couldn't deny, that Eggsy was happy with whatever he was doing. He loved it.

He loved it and everyone he's with in it. So, when Eggsy told her that he would bring a workmate along, she was more than curious. She wanted to know if this Susan was like Roxy or completely different. Another was why Eggsy liked her.

"This is quite an elaborate program." Said woman spoke from her left while to her right, Eggsy fussed with his phone. "How long did they prepare? The decorations are quite superb as well."

"The recital program practices took a month. The teachers wanted every child to be as comfortable as possible, especially those with special needs. Those who do not wish to be left alone on stage got a duet or a companion. The decorations, I believe, a couple of weeks."

"That's very admirable of them. It's always sad when a child couldn't participate because of a fear and the people around them, even just one, hardly cared. I'm glad that this isn't the case here." A soft look touched Susan's face as her finger ran along the spine of the program pamphlet.

"I heard that they found something for everyone to do to contribute." Michelle smiled at her and leaned a bit. "Even the so called loners enjoyed the whole preparation."

"So called?"

"Those who find happiness in solitude still need some friends and companions. Don't you think so?"

"Dear ladies, the fancy term is introverts."

"Yes. Well, thank you for your input, Eggsy."

Eggsy winked before settling back to his seat.

"Your son got a good heart in his unimaginably broad chest." Susan said pointedly with a grin. Eggsy puffed out his chest and nudged Michelle's shoulder. "I just pray that his head wouldn't blow up too much to pop."

"Su. I am the humblest person you have the pleasure of meeting."

Susan put a hand atop her heart and inclined her head forward. "I feel so blessed."

"Will you marry me now?"

Michelle couldn't help her brow from rising in both question and amusement. Eggsy definitely never tried charming Roxy when she visited. If there was anything, there was much sibling-like teasing and rivalry. There was definitely no talk of marriage even if it was teasing. "Marry?"

"Oh, he's not serious."

"I know. I'm just surprised to hear him say that. Eggsy's a closet romantic."

"Mom!"

"Yes. He is. When he proposed to me the first time, I knew he was jesting. I can see his point of the partnership though. We were going to be filthy rich if it boomed."

"Su." He hissed from her right. "This isn't why I brought you along."

"But alas, I see him as a baby brother."

"Great. You're not hearing me."

Michelle chuckled. Their expressions were pretty dramatic and Eggsy topped it off with a roll of his eyes. Susan replied with a deep sigh and looking far to the distance. She could only shake her head at the two. It seemed like they knew each other well.

"Speaking of babies." She saw the mischief in those blue eyes and quickly caught on.

"That would depend. Hmmm. I usually don't show Eggsy's baby pictures until he's whining and begging loud enough to not to."

"Fuck no."

The trickle of people coming in had died down and the full room was buzzing in excitement. She was sure that in a few minutes the host would step out to the podium to welcome everyone. Whatever teasing they were doing to Eggsy would have to wait when that happens. That would be disappointing because she really wanted to see how much more her son's face could distort when he couldn't whine so openly.

"Hmm. How long have you been working with Eggsy?"

Susan paused and looked at her in consideration. There was a slight surprise at the question. "I am yet to work with him, but we've known each other for about a week now."

It was her turn to be surprised.

"I don't know what I did but he'd been there making me smile ever since we met. I think it was because I just came back from a very long vacation."

She turned to Eggsy for a confirmation, but instead found him pointing at the stage. She noticed just in time that the host had stepped out to the podium. Whatever words she had in her mouth died, but they still stayed and tumbled in her mind, then later in her subconscious.

She got her answer once the recital was done and it was time to say goodbye.

"So Mom," Eggsy stepped to her side while watching Susan and Daisy get acquainted. The woman was good and genuine with children, she couldn't deny that. Maybe that was why Eggsy brought her. They watched for a few moments as Susan answered Daisy's questions. "Her eyes are still sad, aren't they?"

Everything else clicked then. Susan pointed at Eggsy and said something to Daisy that had her giggling. Michelle reviewed their interactions in a different light this time. He was right about her eyes being sad. They were also, if she could venture, exhausted.

"Mom! Mom!" Daisy's call broke the trek. She blinked aware to see her daughter in Susan's arms and waving a gift.

"They still are, but there's a twinkle." She gave him a pat on the arm and a kiss on his cheek. "I'm proud of you."

 _ **XXXXXX**_

Merlin could do nothing at this moment but stare, and he's aware he was doing it. It threw the plans he was concocting and his current conversation with Percival far to the background.

FROM: Pevensie

TO: Merlin

 _I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Eggsy taught me texting. Make sure to have some lunch. If Harry or Roxy is with you, please make sure they eat as well. -SP_

Percival thought that he could end his mission sooner than the TTC he gave before. He was proposing possible timings and Merlin was in the middle of simplifying it. Timing was everything in this mission and Percival wasn't the only Kingsman involved. Percival's pieces for the finale might be in place, but Mordred's pieces for his own climax must coincide with it. Merlin couldn't pretty much make this a three way call, too risky.

He was still staring.

A blink, a look at the time, then another blink. Half past noon. Already.

Two taps broke his thoughts. Percival's feed showed the piece of paper he wrote his report on. _Merlin_? His name written in script. He took a deep breath then transferred all the information to his cliptab and the feed to his glasses. Then, he took his mug and swept a look in the lab for something that would need cleaning.

"Percival. Are ye sure about this?"

 _Y._

"Mordred's TTC coincides with the last one ye reported and I haven't heard anything that could mean otherwise. Would it compromise ye to wait?"

 _To a small degree. Nothing I couldn't handle._

"Did he tell ye anything?"

Yes, he couldn't conduct a three-way call, but he had given Mordred and Percival a line of communication with a different code of security. It befitted their places as infiltrators without any means of manually erasing their traces, unlike reports to him. He could always erase tracks for both parties real time.

 _Preparation. No change of timeframe._

"Well then. No one's interfering with yer line, so as long as ye can settle a date with Mordred, I'm giving you the go."

 _Wonderful._

"Only if ye're confident of casualty and success rates."

 _Copy._

 _"_ And make sure that Mordred knows what ye're doing at the very least."

 _Of course._

"Ye're to come home alive, Percival."

 _Will do._

"Take care."

The comms and feed cut into silence. Merlin tried to contact Mordred immediately. The connection was cut as fast as it started. Bad timing. He didn't like it, as he often did. "Shit. Not again."

This was one of the reasons he disliked Mordred.

The agent would always go quiet when preparing for anything big. Almost no reports or contact. It didn't even matter what type of mission it was. The only red herring the rest of them, specifically Merlin, had was the decreasing reports. The fact that he succeeds most of the time using such technique was something he rubbed on everyone's faces as well. Specifically, Merlin, who's left to anticipate and prepare for any possibility so he could jump to support him in case the need arises. His anxiety raging high because such need had history.

He slightly regretted not telling Percival to drag Mordred's hide back as well.

They couldn't fail. Failure would mean loss of valuable data, compromised futures of the populace, and a harder to contain danger. Failure would mean a deadly addictive drug mixed in candies spread throughout the world. It was almost a little boon that they found out about the drug being spread in the third world countries through social media. Another boon that he got curious enough to confirm this seemingly faux news. They had previous incidents like these candy drugs, but not as alarming as this.

Timing was every— _bzzt, bzzt—_ thing.

FROM: Harry

TO: Merlin

 _Susan texted. I didn't know you gave her a phone already. She reminded that you get some lunch._

Before he could even type a reply, another text popped in.

FROM: Roxy

TO: Merlin

 _Go get some food. Please._

He groaned under his breath and stepped out of the lab. Unease helped the now apparent hunger dig in his stomach. He was already questioning his decision of giving her a phone before official training. She didn't even ask for one. The request she posed at him last night could be interpreted in a myriad of ways. He could've played the song from YouTube. Once! Instead, he gave her information about the possible extent of their technology with the lessons he provided, beginner though it was.

It also didn't help that he couldn't monitor her live feed at all times by this point.

"Merlin. I didn't expect to see you here." He paused halfway pinching the bridge of his nose and looked at who called him. He didn't even realize that he already got to the kitchen. A portly man was flipping vegetables in a pan while the stove roared with fire. The fire reflected against exposed dark skin of his arms before it calmed back down. "You're just in time to finally eat a freshly cooked lunch."

That made Merlin sheepish. He smiled and ran a palm on his face. It was well known that he was never on time when it came to meals. Coming to the kitchen to eat whatever they set aside for him was already habit, which were the only meals really made outside the cafeteria most of the time. "Someone reminded me it's already lunch, Ham."

"Bless whoever they are." Hamlet Killian was one of the five senior chefs of the Kingsman. He's also the one chef that Merlin butted heads with. The reason? "Coffee wouldn't sustain you enough. A hearty meal is required three times a day! Don't make me drag you out that lab again, boy."

That. It was something that neither or anyone who knew let go. Ham was his senior in terms of tenure and he took it upon himself to drag the newly appointed Merlin from his lab to the dining room. Literally. By the ear. It took a long arduous talk to even agree to the current arrangement.

"Please don't." He sat on one of the bar stools and set the cliptab on the counter. His stomach growled in impatience, now that he smelled the aroma in the air. "Have pity on my pride. The nagging notes are more than enough."

Hamlet hummed then turned back to cooking.

Merlin pulled up all the reports collated from Percival and Mordred. He focused on Mordred's reports to try to figure out what the agent had as a plan of action. Alongside it, he pulled out a floorplan hologram of the druglab from Percival's reports and his own hackings. One after another, he formulated plans per possibility and counters for every emergency. He was in the middle of scheduling information clearings when a plate of food cut through the holograms. Ham's stern face loomed over. He collapsed the holograms and took the plate, without a word. He dug in a moment after, waiting for Ham to turn around. It happened after the seventh spoonful. Another spoonful and Merlin was multitasking. He ignored Ham's tsks until he heard the pan sizzle once more.

"Who's that for?" The kitchen counter now sported a few chopped carrots, a big chunk of chicken, and a small slice of tuna.

"The cat." Ham motioned somewhere to Merlin's right without even looking up.

The cat.

Golden eyes and a thoughtful expression welcomed his gaze when he turned. He forgot about the cat. Golden eyes blinked. The thoughtful expression stayed without any shift. A reminder why he liked dogs just a little bit more. Paranoia pushed a new torrent of worries that brought on the old ones as well. The old ones that were at this point irrational.

 **IRRATIONAL UNTIL:**

 **1\. What if they've out maneuvered the Kingsman's technology?**

Yes. The Kingsman got advanced tech, but there would always be someone with better. Valentine proved that. Tony Stark continued to do so. Merlin knew he couldn't counter all of them, but he would desperately try.

"The cat's better with meal times than you could ever be." Ham slid a dog bowl and patted the cat's head, before moving to clean up. "He's pretty well behaved. I thought he was a stray at first, without the collar. We have a shortage of cats up here."

"Where does he wander?" Merlin would need to review the feeds. He could clearly remember that Miss Pevensie had invited the cat into the shop. "Have ye seen him under?"

"No. Never under. I believe he just goes here, his master's room, and the gardens. He's a cat after all. Also, I would know if he ventured down. The grapevine will reach me, especially about cute cats." The pans were wiped dry and set back to their proper places. "But then, the rumor mill holds not a cat but a lady as its main topic."

Merlin groaned, put his hands on the back of his head, bowed, and groaned again. "Why is the timing of everything so damn fuckin' wrong?"

"You know boy," He felt a hand clasp his shoulder. "You can't prevent everything and protect everyone from everything. Death is a part of this business from Arthur down to Matt, the new intern janitor. We all know it the moment we agreed to the contract. We aren't the first that will die. We won't be the last."

"I can still try."

"And you know that is futile. Harry's death changed everyone and everyone's slowly working their way to learn from it." Ham squeezed his shoulder. "You? You're grasping at all the strings too tight and your fingers are bleeding."

"Strings?"

It was Ham's turn to groan. He sat down on bar stool beside his. "For someone using a tailor cover, you'd expect they get the analogy."

"I _get_ the analogy. I think ye don't understand that I am supposed to be the holder of all these strings. I am _the_ Merlin."

"I've lived through two Merlins before you and I swear you are the most annoying of them all."

Merlin didn't understand where he was getting at. All he could think about were the nightmares that plagued him at every death. Before, it was just him experiencing the way said agent died. After Harry, his nightmares evolved to dropping him to a situation and showing him all the ways his strategy wo—could fail. All the ways the agents could die while their most beloveds stay in the shadows watching. Eggsy's and Roxy's were some of the worst. Percival's shocked silence was too loud. Daisy's cries ripped him open and he had never even met the child.

"Merlin."

He crashed back to reality and was welcomed by Ham's concerned face. He could never comprehend why he cared so much for him. He wanted to ask why, but never found courage to do it. Back in the early days, he thought it was just a dedication to his job. A few months after that initial incident changed his mind. It didn't help that there were the little things.

 **SAID LITTLE THINGS:**

 **1\. Nagging notes.**

 **2\. Set aside meals.**

 **3\. Updates on the gossip mill of the Kingsman.**

 **4\. So many more.**

"Do you trust your comrades?"

The answer to that was simple and true. It would always be true even amid incredulity and confusion. "With my life."

"And the rest of the Kingsman?"

Chester King's face filled the forefront of his mind. Questions that he thought he had long laid to rest revived. _Did he even feel an ounce of guilt? Did he regret when he knew he was going to die? Did he even think of how stupid Valentine's plan was? Did he get tired of all the seemingly endless work they're doing?_ He remembered the grief of Harry's injury. The relief when Harry's revived. He remembered the hope when Harry stepped up to be Arthur. The immediate changes, future plans, and how almost everyone's struggling, but _trying._

"Aye."

"Do you trust yourself?"

Something lodged in his throat. Was it an answer or having no answer?

 **QUESTIONS THAT FOLLOWED THAT** _ **SIMPLE**_ **ONE:**

 **1\. Trust himself? In what manner?**

 **2\. To protect himself? To protect his own?**

 **3\. To protect what he should?**

 **4\. To do his best? To do what is right?**

 **5\. To what degree?**

He stared at his hands, trying to find a suitable answer to all those questions. His lips remained clamped shut. That made him almost laugh. _How he wished an answer would show up on his palm._

Ham poked his side with an elbow. "They say often enough that trust is like glass. A mirror. I never really liked that analogy, but I learned that there's some truth in it. Its end is a bit lacking though."

Ham set his hands together on top of his belly and smiled at him. "A person isn't ever meant to be one big unblemished mirror. It discredits all the facets of a person that evolves from the breaking. Each shard could reflect a different light and present a different you."

The cat, done with his meal, approached them and rubbed his head against Merlin's arm. His face never changed, but there's an air of comfort. Gold eyes stared at him before giving a blink.

"The secret is healing the cracks." Ham reached out and scratched the cat behind one of his ears. "The Japanese got it down really early too. Kintsugi. Healing the broken cracks with gold. It's wonderful. I'll definitely bring my family to see such art for my next vacation."

Merlin had no doubt that Ham had taken the task of lecturing him. Ham took every damn chance. He honestly thought that the man ran out of analogies decades ago, only to be proven wrong.

As pattern would dictate, the clear conclusion would be reached.

"What I mean, my boy, is try. There's a chance that it'll hurt but would you deprave yourself of everything else just because of it? Give it a chance."

There's logic in it. It also wasn't an impossible request even. Merlin was just asked that he try, not that he succeed. He could do that. He could do that.

Trust. _Trust._ That didn't mean he needed to erase all doubts. Just a chance.

The cat nuzzled against his arm again and this time, he reached out and ran his fingers against the furry head.

"I'll try."

The cat gave a purr and Merlin thought it even smiled.

"There we go." Ham clapped a hand against his back, while pushing himself to stand. "Another plate, then I'll allow you to go back to your plans. If you have time, you should check with the science and tech kids under. They're cooking something interesting."

Percival's name popped into Merlin's feed. _A call? At this time?_ He straightened up and immediately reached out for his cliptab. He was halfway there when Mordred's, _Mordred's,_ feed filled a part of his glasses.

Gunshots filled his ears. Fire in his glasses.

" _What_ the fuck is happenin'?!" He grabbed the cliptab and pulled everything up. He was out the kitchen as soon as he finished that sentence.

 _"The finale."_ Mordred. Amusement. Gunshots. Sarcasm. _"Percival said he got your permission."_

"A few minutes ago!" He kicked his lab's door, while transferring all the information back to his computer.

 _"Half an hour._ " Percival. Grinning. Exhilarated. A thump of a kick and a body crashing on the floor. Glass shattering.

 _"So, right. Merlin, your magic would be greatly appreciated."_

"It's not magic, Mordred." Gritted teeth. Fingers speeding through keys. Questions that he couldn't ask but needed answers on. Cameras. Audio. Minutes filled with destruction.

A finale indeed.

 _"Merlin!"_

"I'm working!" He growled.

 **WORKING:**

 **1\. Information: The final video and audio feeds are pulled out safely before the hardware was destroyed. Any possible trace of the Kingsman was removed just in case something went wrong.**

 **The lab's existence is removed from the face of the earth, while all the leads found during the commotion are taken to their side.**

 **2\. Lives: Syndicate members, Carter or not, are removed from the board. Whether it be by fire, bullets, or whatever waits on the sidelines.**

 **(Arthur's Kingsguard. Merlin's Mages.)**

 **3\. Percival and Mordred coming home alive.**

 _"There we have it."_ Mordred didn't even sound winded. Merlin could still hear his smile. A smile he wanted to damn erase with his fist, at some point.

Merlin didn't know how long it took. He's just relieved that he could call this a success. He already sent word for the cleanup, and the Kingsguards and Mages would know what to do. Standard procedure.

 _"We'll be leaving the clean up to you Merlin."_ Percival, on the other hand, just recovered from a coughing fit.

 _"No need telling him that. We're probably disturbing the cleanup by being here."_ Mordred stepped into Percival's line of sight, putting him in his feed. He didn't look injured, but definitely roughened up.

"There's a car waiting for you ten minutes east from your current position. Everything you would need is there."

 _"Hair dye kit?"_ Mordred headed for the direction, pulling his stolen hat over his dirtied red hair.

"First stop. As usual."

 _"Thank you."_

Merlin took the silence that followed to come down from the adrenaline high he was in. He took the chance to breathe and put his thoughts into order.

His body sagged in relief. His eyes wide and brows high in surprise.


	10. New

"You're a new face."

Susan paused in her apple slicing, turning to the kitchen entrance to find two men stepping in. Rather, one of them stepped in and the other limped in. _Kingsman._ Suit. Stance. Eyeglasses. There's no other choice, really. It would seem that the open knowledge of the branches was long closed. It would seem, that only the Trinity knew of all the branches in intimacy at this point.

She wondered which of the knights these two would be.

"Right. You didn't get to join the emergency meeting."

"She caused an emergency meeting?"

She heard the words and understood what they were implying about her existence. Unfortunately, she was so taken at how the man that spoke first wore crooked glasses. Her mind jumped into figuring out on whether it was the glasses that was crooked, or the man just clearly had his head tilted a bit to the left as a default. Or maybe it was the ears? They did remind her of a mouse's. Mr. Crooked Glasses seemed to be a kind person and a hardworking one.

A baritone laugh had her turn to the other man. With him, it would be it that's going to be his primary distinct quality. The sound reminded her easily of deep caverns and booming drums. _How would he sound with a belly laugh? Would it sound like the smithies?_ His glasses were pristine with sharp edged frames. An almost hawk nose. A five o' clock shadow. Pointed ears? Pointed ears. Mr. Pointy Ears.

Both damn tall. Both in suits. Both dark haired. Both, in Susan's estimate, around their late 30s to early 40s.

"An emergency meeting and she's still here?" That had her eyebrow raising. The implication was again clear and the desire to crush jumped from her throat to her tongue. Patience halted it, her lips opting for a smile instead. She did itch to know how Crooked Glasses would react. She turned to Pointy Ears to find him looking at her with a smirk of his own. Even through the smirk, his eyes looked a bit sad. Curious.

He was the first to look away. "You plan to tell him Miss, or should I?"

She placed the apple down and the knife back to the chopping board, wiped her hands, and fully faced the two of them.

Would first meetings with a Kingsman always be a dance?

"Introduction, gentlemen."

Susan found herself liking how Pointy Ears took the cue. How sensitive could he be with every hint? How fast would he know the repercussions of a hint? Would he grab and own it as bravely as he did this?

"Mordred." He executed a playful bow, making Crooked Glasses raise his eyebrow. He smirked back as he straightened.

"Percival." There's no bow, but there was a nod. Mordred looked slightly disappointed at that. "And who are you, Miss?"

"'Tis an honor to meet you, my Sirs." She curtsied, an action she was surprised was still familiar. "I'm Guinevere."

One. Two. Three. Four.

"Well, that's curious." Percival gave a nonchalant shrug, then smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

She smiled back. "Now that introductions are done, can I tempt you to a snack? I doubt you're here to stare at the… Fridge."

"What're you having?" Mordred gave Percival a pat on his shoulder before taking a seat on a bar stool. Percival took a few moments to follow, having come to a decision.

"I hope you don't expect anything heavy." She picked up the plates of cut fruit and some biscuits. Percival reached out to take one of the plates to assist her. "Thank you."

She placed the rest of the plates and turned around to clean up the things she used. She stumbled upon the kitchen during her first sleepless midnight. That first night. All the shining things both terrified and amazed her, that she returned every chance she got. Slowly she worked through all the things that changed and stayed the same. She never touched anything that seemed complicated and unfamiliar, which was plenty of them. That was why it was a blessing that she crossed ways with Hamlet. A blessing indeed. He taught her most of the basics. She still avoided many of the kitchen gadgets, but she's getting familiar with the fridge, the stove, and the water dispenser. He even taught her how to make hot chocolate, which she now took every morning as was habit.

She wiped the counter clean and still felt eyes on her back. She was ready to say something smart, but it died down when she turned around. They were deep in thought and obviously exhausted.

She took the water pitcher and three mugs.

"Food will be good to your bellies, even just a little." She set it down beside the biscuits and pushed the plate of fruit to Percival. She remembered him limping when they came in. "Maybe it'll get you through until you can get to your beds. Please."

She bit on a biscuit and took a slice of apple, hoping that it would get them to eat. It did, but only when she's halfway the apple slice. They were halfway through everything by the time she finished her second apple slice.

"There's more where that came from." She fetched and set the tin where she got the biscuits before Mordred who was already reaching halfway. "Did you even get some breakfast?"

"We had some coffee and toast on the way." Percival munched on a biscuit while discreetly picking another. Dark eyes. Not black, but dark chocolate brown.

"While in the car." Mordred grumbled with a roll of his eyes. Blue like hers. No. Not exactly. Blue-grey. Like the sky inviting a storm. "That part is important."

Poor dears.

"I think I still have the time, I can cook you something—"

"I'd appreciate if ye go to debrief first before bletherin' around." Merlin stood by the door with a blank face, his clipboard in hand. Forehead creased. Shoulders stiff. His voice held no arguments and was as rough as it was deep.

It sent a shiver down her spine.

Of course, Aslan would drop her in the middle of something big.

Mordred openly sighed and gave a soft groan. Percival gulped his fourth mug of water down before standing up. Mordred followed suit, swallowing his last chunk of biscuit. Percival was already going to Merlin when Mordred finished his mug of water.

Susan rushed to the fruit basket and took three apples. "Mordred. A moment, please."

He paused, question clear. She offered the apples to him, urging him to take it with her eyes. She knew how it was to race from one place to another without anything in her belly. She knew how damaging lack of food was. "Please."

"I don't think Merlin's going to be fine with that." He replied under his breath.  
"Please. I'm sure none of you hadn't had a decent meal yet." She glimpsed at Merlin, making sure that she was heard. "All three of you."

Mordred took the apples and slipped one of them in his pockets. He gave her another playful bow and turned to leave. On the way, he tossed an apple to Percival, who caught it midair. He then offered the other to Merlin, who sighed and took it.

His sigh was too deep for her liking. Hamlet had mentioned that calling Merlin's meal times as irregular was an understatement. The only thing regular with Merlin and food was his coffee. She could understand that. Every agent could make small sacrifices, but the term 'small' could be taken depending on a person's perspective. Loopholes and specificities were parts of a spy's lifestyle.

She didn't even get to ask Hamlet if Merlin did get to eat on time yesterday. Heaven help them if other agents share his habit.

"This better not be as hard as shoving food down Ed's throat."

 _ **XXXXXX**_

 **SOMETHING HARRY HART ALREADY EXPECTED:**

 **1\. Susan Pevensie knew how to dance. From the reports, she danced well.**

Dance had always been a part of the ongoing training once a recruit becomes an agent. It was expected and required that they're, at the very least, experts of the basic steps of the socialite dances, new and old. A decent mastery of the waltz was a requirement. Those who wished to pursue more of the subject was free to learn through the help of the Kingsman, whether it be through lessons from co-agents or affiliates. Harry was of the former. He was lucky that he didn't need to go too far to find a teacher. The previous Bedivere was the one who taught him almost everything that he knew.

So, in perfect Harry Hart fashion, he brought Susan to a classy but homey restaurant with a ballroom floor. A small orchestra played pieces in batches and Spotify stepped in during their breaks.

"This is fancier than what I expected." Susan's eyes kept jumping from one place to another, taking in the features of the place. It stopped on the roof. "They have a glass roof."

He followed her gaze to said stained glass roof. The bright London day, a surprise, made the rose centerpiece shine like the sun. He looked back at Susan to see her basking in it. Her head bent back resting against the chair and her shoulders sloped down. Her hair was loose and comparable to a waterfall. Her hands rested together on her stomach, fingers slightly intertwined. Her lips were parted, breathing out. Closed eyes completed the image.

He stopped the waiter that was approaching their table with a raised hand and a shake of his head.

It would be a sin to disturb this peace. A sin to defile this picture of elegance.

A stupidity to miss this chance of observation.

He still couldn't believe that she was the Lost Guinevere and he told himself that whenever he was in her presence and whenever he heard her stories. Those were the moments he was so ready to accept it, because there was something about her. Something that he had been trying to define but couldn't. A word that could fit, but he always found lacking. What intrigued him wasn't her wonder of the new world. It wasn't her kindness to everyone, or her perception of her effect on people.

It was this elegance, as if she's following a different set of etiquette. A set that this world still revered, but long forgot. A set that now with someone following, the world craved to have back.

It made one look and wonder why she's there, only to accept that she's supposed to be.

"There's a place in our memory," Her voice started soft. "My brothers, sister and I, of a great hall with its ivory walls, tall columns, and its own glass roof. The embellishments of that one though, were focused on the edges."

And there were these. Statements that implied something and served as little hints to a larger puzzle. Pieces that would lead to a full circle of realization or revelation. Details that were obviously very dear to her, openly shared.

That bothered him as well. Her openness and reaching out halfway, while they wondered if there's a knife somewhere that would jump in the embrace. He had decided to trust her, true, but there was always a chance.

"What do they do during the winter?" Her eyes fluttered open and her body straightened, back to adhering high society's aesthetic of manners. "I doubt someone would want to climb up there to push off all the snow. Unless, they pay that someone enough."

"They installed heaters." He waved a waiter to them. "But there was a time someone did come up to push the snow off."

"So that's what those stairs are for." She took the offered menu with a smile.

"Other than for heater maintenance, they use the stairs to offer a tour atop the place and see the stained glass up close."

She nodded in understanding, opening the menu and skimming through it. He followed suit, even though he had an idea of what he wanted. Who knows? Maybe there's something interesting in today's specials. A quick glance confirmed his theory enough to peruse further to change his mind. He looked up to check on her once he's done.

Brows furrowed. Eyes squinted. Lips pressed tight together. It wasn't even an exaggerated expression. She's flipping through the menu back and forth too. What could be wrong?

"Is there something wrong? Do you have allergies? I can give some recommendations or we can ask the waiter."

"No. No. It's nothing like that." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm still trying to wrap my head around things."

"Ah. May I inquire what's the most difficult right now?"

There was a pause for a few moments, then she leaned forward looking around. "The prices."

"The prices."

"Yes."

Things clicked and he had to smile. "I'm afraid the current economic landscape isn't the best, but I assure you, it is definitely better than long before at some points."

"That eases my heart."

She still ordered the cheapest meal in the menu. In return, he made sure that she order something chocolate as her dessert.

"Shall we dance while we wait?" He offered her a hand. He had caught sight of the orchestra setting up for their next batch just when they finished ordering. It was good timing too, since there's only a few pairs on the floor, also taking advantage of the next batch of music.

"I thought you would never ask."

They entered the ballroom floor with her arm hooked to his. Past pairs that opted to sway in their little corners. Past pairs that were a bit more daring, moving in wider circles but not wide enough. Past pairs that knew what they were doing and changed directions to give way.

Eyes on them.

 _Eyes on her._

They stopped shy the center of the floor. She slipped out of his hold and stepped back, raising her arms open. The current music bar came to its crescent and when it descended, they stepped forward.

Hands clasped. Her right side settling against his. Feet posed.

The next moment he almost dropped her at the sudden weight. She was heavy. Heavier than he expected and it wasn't just the weight.

Her spine was twisted like a spiral, left arm level to her shoulder with her elbow jutting out, and she held her head far—farther than he was used to—from the hold. It made her lean so far back that he feared she would fall away from him. She was leaning so far back that he had to adjust his hold.

He felt like a vase holding a bowed lily. He could only imagine how they looked. Could she maintain this all through out? Could he support her and lead her properly?

Eyes on them. _Eyes on her._

Another bar passed. Could he muster the strength? Another bar passed again and she moved, adjusting to a form he was more comfortable. The pressure on his side disappeared and her spine straightened. The weight eased and the distance grew.

"My apologies." Adjustment. Eyes on them. _Eyes on her._ Still. Another bar passed without movement or dance. A small part of him was disappointed on how incompetent a lead he was looking. A larger part was demanding he lead instead of thinking too much.

So he did, his mind still trying to figure out the message that incident was supposed to be.

Left foot forward. Right foot diagonal. Left foot close to the right. Everything that followed came almost by instinct. _How long had she been dancing? Who taught her to dance in such a hold? Who was her partner in such hold? Was it a Kingsman or not? How many dances did she know? How well?_ He felt a strong pressure against his hip that moved quickly down his right leg. Before he could even let instinct push back as a reply, the world spun.

One. His body tensed for a moment, seizing some control only to find none. Just a moment. His feet found ground to follow and his body recovered balance to complete the spin.

Two. Muscles bunched in tension beneath his fingertips. An energy filled the air and Harry was overwhelmed at how palpable it was. It pulsed, flared around them and he glanced down to its source. Susan was smiling at him, but not to him.

She was the center of gravity.

Three. Faster the world spun as the tension retreated slowly. His mind out of whatever thought process it had, did its best to catch up with his body. His body which had long accepted its new role to react, did so to whatever this unyielding force was leading him to. When his mind caught up, it was to make sure that his body did it properly.

He was being swept away by a wave.

Four. Awareness came as the shock and confusion faded. His mind now conscious to the signals the one against him was sending. Aware and in control of how he should follow through the execution. She was still smiling. He also took this chance to look around them.

 _Eyes on them. Eyes on her._

After that fourth spin, they ended in a throwaway oversway position. A figure he learned briefly but never was able to use simply because it wasn't for social dancing. But here he was doing it. His muscles straining but adjusting to make sure that the lines were perfect and his hold steady. They stayed like that for a few more moments, before her body shifted and his own prepared to follow. Their bowed back torsos and bent legs straightened, extended legs pulled back in, and their hold returning to its parallel rest. Back to how they started.

Back to stable ground. That looming energy was gone. The tension almost inexistent. This time she waited. The hijacking never happened in the dance again. It didn't need to. The point, Harry assumed there was one, made a mark.

 **THE ASSUMED POINT:**

 **1\. Susan might have nothing to lose, but control wasn't included in that** _ **nothing.**_

 **THE TRUTH:**

 **1\. Susan really just wanted to dance.**

 _ **XXXXXX**_

 _Bad habits are bad._ However, when the cash desk's looking at you because of the amount of uncooked fries packs you're laying down the counter, that's the last thing on your mind. The first thing was the takeout bags full of ready to eat fries, the taste in your mouth from the one you just finished, and the salt still on your fingertips.

That was Merlin's situation a few minutes ago, but now he's out of the grocery nearest the Kingsman tailor shop. He wanted to wipe the knowing smirk of the cash desk personnel, but was too preoccupied with the fries he was trying to keep warm in his coat pockets.

He popped a few into his mouth and sighed. _Well tidy scran._ He was already walking when he popped another few again. Walking sounded appealing, albeit not too much for his bags of groceries, but it might give him an outlet for the stress he'd been feeling the past few days.

And what a stress it was and still would be. He didn't leave the HQ through it all and now that he was out, his to do list still hovered close to the forefront of his mind. There's still the pull of needing to return, but he knew this could be the only break he got till the next shitestorm. He nibbled at a fry as he rounded a corner, catching a woman doing the same at the corner of his gaze.

"Roxy."

"Didn't think you'd realize this late." She glanced at the grocery bags. _Bad habits are—_ Merlin just ate more fries. "I'm relieved to see you finally out."

"Ye make it sound like it's a prison."

"Not at all. It's your workaholism that's a prison."

"Said the pot to the kettle." He pulled out the other untouched takeout bag from his pocket and offered it to her. She took the bag and in no time, they were both munching fries while walking through the nighttime streets of London. "This ain't yer way home."

"No."

Merlin let the silence reign. He was never one to openly offer out whatever personal information or business he knew about anyone, unless he needed to. And he knew a lot. A definite lot. Another reason was because he knew Roxy. She needed these quiet moments of normalcy as much as he did.

"How was Alistair?" Roxy broke the silence. They rounded another corner. His current bag of fries was nearly empty and he hoped his other still untouched bags in another pocket were hopefully, still warm.

"He'll be limping for a few more days. Nothing serious. I ken he would be fine before he comes back to the doc."

"That's good. Something to say to my brother to reassure his wife about her own brother. I never understood why they don't just ask Sylvia again on this."

"They're not satisfied of the wife's answers?"

"Not at all. They just accepted that Sylvia is as secretive as Alistair and so bother me about it."

He smiled at that. Of course, Sylvia Thompson nee Watson would be secretive about her husband's affairs. She was after all a retired member of the organization. She worked with the Q branch for years under Merlin's own guidance.

"She should know a bit more about acting. Alistair mentioned she's pursuing theater these days." Merlin wouldn't mention that though. Classified information. "Unless, I dinnae, she's using ye as an easy out."

Roxy's annoyance had him smiling wider. "What would I ken though?"

"Oh, you know a lot. You know everything. You want to know so much more that you find the gruelling task more fun than any normal hobby!"

He wiped his fingers on the tissue and gave a small huff. "Be thankful I'm not offended, I should be."

She scoffed. "You won't be. You adore me."

"Don't make me regret it."

"Oh, I plan to never make you regret it. Unlike your inexistent social life." Her smirk had him rolling his eyes. "I understand that it's work, but sometimes you don't even leave the lab for days."

"Exaggeration."

Roxy paused and it was her turn to roll her eyes. They both knew that the lab has its own bathroom, mini fridge, and a hidden sofabed. They also both knew that there was an incident that Merlin stayed in the lab for four days. Roxy knew all of this because it was her mission that required it. And unlike Merlin, she was given a chance to recover the lost sleep after. They both knew that it was what started their closeness. Merlin could even compare it to how Harry had become so fond of Eggsy.

Merlin paused a few steps after and looked back. He stared at her blankly. She stared back just as blank.

"When was the last time you went out to have fun?"

"A week ago. Harry and I went drinking." Her frown meant it was unsatisfactory.

"When was the last time you met someone new—"

"A few days ago."

"—other than Susan Pevensie?"

She wasn't amused. He was.

He was ready for a comeback until he noticed a woman looking at them from the other side of the road. Her gaze jumped from him to Roxy again and again. He watched as she carried on doing it a few more times until it settled to Roxy. He frowned, his mind running and trying to determine who this person was.

"She's my girlfriend."

He blinked. Curiosity warping to surprise.

Kahinoor Farahani, nicknamed Noor, was definitely not completely dark haired when he received the surveillance report a month ago. The bright purple dye on her hair was gone, a very distinct feature that threw him a bit off balance. That combined with the fact that she had crossed the road and now standing before him, looking at Roxy with eyes clear in their adoration, made him blink a few more times.

Noor stood before him a few inches taller than Roxy and with her heels, almost reached his eyelevel. She was also wearing a very interesting outfit. A neon red blouse under a leather jacket. Ripped dark jeans that showed she's wearing leggings of the same neon color.

Lava was the first word that came to mind.

"Noor." The two hugged. In those few moments, Roxy looked like all her burdens were for another time. He had never seen her so effortlessly calm. Her smile was so bright when Noor kissed the apple of her cheek. She looked happy. "I'm sorry for making you wait."

"It's nothing. We're all busy these days." Even when they stepped away from each other, Noor's eyes were on Roxy. A look Merlin was familiar with when his sisters found the loves of their lives. "You sure you're not too tired?"

"I should be asking you that. Was your boss being a piece of shit again?"

"Not too much."

"I swear. You're a saint."

Aye. They're definitely in their own little world. The softness on Roxy's face was definitely new to him.

"You're not talking about work, are you?" Dark eyes turned to him. Golden skin. She turned to Roxy again after delivering that question. Merlin couldn't help his smile. Definitely in love.

"Not at all. I'm actually telling him that he needs to get out more. You can't base workaholism just by how much one talks about work. He rarely talks about work and that's because he rarely gets away from it!"

"So you've said." Noor had a softness in her, while having a very obvious undertone of steel. A strength that seemed to compliment Roxy's own. "Is he the one you keep telling me that's in charge of the tech of your tailor company?"

Roxy nodded, face open in emotions. This was the most animated he'd seen her too. Subtle expressions, but animated. It made him wonder about many things. The small details and emotion that any report couldn't express.

"I'm Kahinoor Farahani."

"Merlin Sutherland. Glad to meet ye." He offered the hand he's not using to eat fries, openly ignoring Roxy's raised brow. He used Sutherland when she asked for his last name. He was sure. "I'm a workmate."

"A greater workaholic."

"So far, at least." After the necessary handshake, her hand immediately went for Roxy's own like it was instinct. "You can join us. Workaholics getting a break together and having fun."

"Good luck inviting him clubbing."

" _Azizam_..." _My dear._

"I'm afraid she's right." He felt honored that Roxy trusted him enough to introduce her girlfriend to him, but he wouldn't intrude what little time they seemed to have in first meeting. It was glaringly obvious that they missed each other. It was cute.

"It doesn't have to be clubbing. There's so many things we can do for fun."

"I think I'm too old for most of them," He lifted the groceries to view. "And I need to get home and put this away before they spoil."

"Ah. If you must. But if you keep missing opportunities saying you're too old, would you call that living?"

He didn't have any reply to that. He turned to Roxy for a clue but found her smirking and proud instead. He shook his head in surrender. "Next time. I'll free up some time for sure."

Noor brightened like the light she was named. Its sincerity was unexpected, especially when they just met and she was only going from what twisted halftruths Roxy told her. "I look forward to it!"

He watched them when they crossed the street hand in hand. He only continued with his trek when they turned to a corner and disappeared from view.

He was happy for Roxy and hoped that her joy continue. He should ask Alistair if he knew about this and plan how he could assist.

Relationships were pretty complicated with the Kingsman.


	11. Break

Day nine.

It was hard to not count the days. It was almost instinct at this point, this feeling of borrowed time. It governed her every day. Fifteen years, four months, and 23 days of the Golden Age. A year, two months and six days of England in between. Three months and a week of the Narnian Revolution and its New Age. Days counted and labelled. Susan knew Aslan gave His word. She knew that the Lion wouldn't break said word. She had the greatest assurance that, yes, she was staying.

Yes. The Lion, creator and redeemer, had given her His Word.

Nine days.

A small, but powerful part of her still doubted, and she let it stay. Doubt was her lifeline. It had given her, her greatest griefs, but it also kept her alive and aware. If only it carried on staying a small part of her at all times and not swallow her whole whenever it liked and had a chance, she would appreciate it more.

She would be delighted if it didn't fuel simple curiosities to nagging needs and undeniable momentary panic.

Yes. The Lion gave her His word, but in His vague norm. Vagueness that as always, had her mind raging, feeding on and twisting the presented and unpresented details for the loopholes she ever loved.

Loopholes she should be aware of. Loopholes she could exploit.

He never said anything about what would happen in between.

Two simple words that encompassed and defined her life, because she let it. England and Narnia. She accepted it as her place. England and America. She made it be so. The BSC and the MI6. The MI5 and the SSR. The MI5 and SHIELD. Look where she ended up. SHIELD and the Kingsman.

A strained chuckle forced its way from her throat and past her lips. She stomped down the amusement enough that nothing more followed that one. She was afraid she would descend to hysteria if she let the chuckles continue.

If only it was as easy as saying she was in between this and that.

Now, she's breathing in the air of a present she was never supposed to be in, while smelling the scent of her past. It wasn't even England's past of smoke, grime and gunpowder. It was wildflowers in spring, parchments and ink amid autumn, steel and a raging summer storm. She's mentally repeating a song that was of this time, while in a quiet that kept reminding her of times she and Peggy chatted over tea, in a room that was so close to one at St. Finbar's. It made her want to throw up, stomach twisting and throat clamping. To claw at her throat because she couldn't breathe out the wildflowers, the parchment and the summer storm.

She shouldn't be like this. This wasn't the first time. This was far from the first time. She should be better than this.

Edmund wasn't hunched over somewhere reviewing some diplomatic law to help Lucy's voyage across the sea. Peter wasn't looking over his shoulder collaborating on how large a retinue he could force their youngest to take as protection. Lucy's amusement at Peter that he would even dare think that his plan would work, was absent.

Of course they would be absent. This wasn't Narnia. This wasn't the England of her youth. This wasn't even the library of the Kingsman headquarters that she knew.

Yet here she was because this time of tangible gods and superheroes needed a Narnian.

The laughter got stuck in her chest and stabbed her lungs. A Narnian. The next laugh sounded like a strangled chirp. She hadn't felt like a Narnian in so long, hardly even considered herself one for longer. Here she was blaspheming by talking about cream walls, great columns and the most beautiful glass roof. A greater blasphemy was how she could do it all as a riddle and with a smile.

She shouldn't be here to experience a world that her comrades never got to see. She shouldn't be here acting as if knowing more would mean she would find her place faster in this reality. As if knowing more would make her existence valid.

Valid. Ha! Of all the people that deserved seeing this semblance of peace. Of all the people who had sacrificed so much for this future. Of all who did more and better. Dead while she's here because she's _a Narnian._

She stopped being a Narnian when she broke Lu's heart and made her shed tears. She was no longer a Narnian when rage filled every fiber of Pete's being and she could still muster to raise her chin in defiance. She shed that title and all it meant when Ed's jaw stiffened and his dark eyes turned knowing of her—

She shed her Queendom the moment she dared smile and call it all a game.

"Susan!"

 _I'm fine!_ A layer of her mind already had a ready reply. Something it pushed to make into reality and it would've, usually it would, if not for the pain that erupted on her body. It didn't mean that said layer of mind gave up. Her heart was beating. She's alive. Beating. Breathing. _I'm fine._

Smile. _I'm sorry._ Stand up. Keep smiling. _How dare you keep smiling?_ Stand up. Focus. Who? Where? _There's nothing to worry about._ Vision swam. Body tilted suddenly. There were things to do and places to go. No right to sit around and wallow in emotions that she shouldn't be feeling. Where again? What was—supposed to be doing? Where? Where? Why here? Why _still_ here? Why still breathing? _Stop breathing. Stop. Stop. Stop._ Shouldn't be here. Not here. Where? They're all dead. Dead. _I'm fine._ Who to even think Death would bless? Who—? Who—supposed to be? Who — _I'm fine_.—?

"Susan!" She gasped, lungs rejecting but needing the breath that it took. Wildflowers. Parchment. Summer storm. She scrambled for something to hold on to. Where? Where? She grasped at the closest but her hold slipped again and again. Wildflowers. Parchment. Storm.

"Breathe." _She shouldn't. She couldn't!_ The ground under her slowed its undulating and there was something solid under her hands. "Listen to me. Listen."

She tried. She really did. A different layer of her conscious recognized the movement of air and the warmth as it puffed against her skin. She scrambled to hold on to the sound and the sensation. One. Two. WILDFLOWERS. PARCH— _No. Nononono. How dare—_

"Breathe in." The voice demanded no arguments, so amid the sudden warmth, she dared. She wheezed, throat struggling and lungs unraveling painfully. WILDFLOWE— "Breathe out."

WILD—"Breathe in." Wheeze. Struggle. Unravel. Warmth. "Breathe out."

At some point her lungs finished unraveling and at another, her throat stopped twisting. She was no longer wheezing when she recognized the exhaustion in her limbs. It shut up her raging conscious enough that when it faded, it was quick and painless.

That meant that, as expected, waking up would be the opposite.

"Don't move so much." The voice intruded from nowhere that she thought it could only be from two places. Her mind and the Cat. The latter was impossible, because it sounded different. It took the former some time to debunk, but it helped when she saw a man moving closer to her bedside with a cup of water. _Harry_. It was Harry. She mustered a smile and probably failed, but he smiled back and offered the cup. "Before we agitate your throat any further."

It took some maneuvering, but the water was warm and soothing. The warmth spread through her body with every sip and helped with her breathing. She felt real and grounded. She offered it back when it was empty. "...Thank you."

She then took inventory in the silence that followed. Exhausted and sluggish, a given. The back of her head and her right shoulder were throbbing in pain. She was back in her room, her coat folded neatly at the end of her bed, the rest of her clothes were still on and her shoes were placed neatly beside the bed too. The cat, rather Cat, was beside her on the bed and staring up at her, loving and calm. She reached out to soothe Him only to feel tension under his fur. She almost smiled at the confirmation. She might not know the Great Cat best, but she knew plenty of Cats throughout her many lifetimes. At least, to this degree, she knew Him. It's interesting to discover that the ever composed God would deem her worthy of worry.

He cared, even with all her sins. She wanted to ask why. She wondered if she would get the answer in the details she needed.

"Thank you." Then, she turned to Harry and found him sitting on the edge of his seat. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Horror and guilt flickered on his face and unlike what she expected it wasn't hidden behind a stoic face. Harry was rattled and he was showing it to her. He was also looking at her with a gigantic why. "You are— We— I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I should've considered the situation without any bias."

No Kingsman was ever saved from a meeting with Death, whatever sort of meeting it might be. None of them was safe from the night terrors and the daymares. Each of them had their hands stained of blood and tears. Blood of people that they believed to be true villains. Blood of the innocent, too late to be saved. Blood of comrades and beloveds taken by Death before their eyes. Blood of those they would send Death's way as offerings for a longer survival. Blood they would shed that could never compare. Tears shed in secret and out in public. Theater tears and those that ripped their way past every possible defense. Knights were far from saints. Spies playing as knights were even farther.

She reached out to Harry this time. She felt old and tired, but she understood to a degree why. "You are the Arthur of the Kingsman and it is your duty to lead and protect it. This I know."

"You are a Kingsman."

"Yes, but am I a trustworthy one?" She wondered and hoped that at some point, they would be able to share what had happened in the recent past. An event that wrapped them all in grief that still permeated the air as an undercurrent. "I am a Kingsman. which is why I know I won't be welcomed with open arms. I wouldn't trust myself in these situations too."

"However, we've ignored common decency and acted inconsiderate." He didn't smile. "You were taken, kept somewhere for God knows how long, and forced to a place and time I doubt you would want to be. It is ungentlemanly to just ignore such fact."

"And it is human to want to protect one's own." She mustered a smile, this time succeeding. "And to err is human."

She added the last line as words of comfort. Words that each person needed to hear at some point of their lives. Words Susan used to tell to many but never really told herself, never really applied whether in this land or the other. The most fitting memory replayed.

 _"We are not just humans."_

 _"We are not."_

 _A realization made by the shadows as they watched the grieving light._

"Then, I hope that you forgive me and give us another chance."

"You have it." There was no need, but if it gives peace of mind, then Susan would never hold it back.

"Thank you"

"I should be the one thanking you, for finding me."

Because in truth, the fault was hers and the ones that could absolve her were long dead and gone.

* * *

"Merlin!" Eggsy. The name registered amid the scratching noise that he could still hear. He forced his teeth to stop gritting and for his jaw to relax. He knew that he succeeded when Eggsy's momentary confusion stayed momentary. "Sorry mate. Didn't expect you to be too busy."

The scratching was still there. The sound crescending before fading and hitching to a pause then continuing. He hissed a breath out. "How can I help ye?"

"Ah. Right." Eggsy squirmed. He would've smiled if he wasn't doing his best to keep his focus. "Where's Susan?"

He shoved back the image his mind pushed to the forefront. Not quick enough. Pale fingers like bones in their stiff tension. Already blunt nails clawing against hardcover. He gritted his teeth. "I haven't seen 'er."

"Figures." Eggsy nodded and turned to leave. "Just gonna check on her then."

"Don't."

She was curled up fetally on the window seat. Her body shuddered from each desperate breath before pausing and then restarting. The lines of her body poised in strain. Amid it all, his mind scrambled to hold onto the last word he said. "Don't."

"Why?"

The sound of her scraping nails against hardbound cover and her stuttered breathing filled his mind. He clutched the armrest and felt like he was gripping her stiff arm once more. "Harry's with her."

"Did something happen?"

"She's fine." That was what she said, while her blue eyes were wide, afraid, and unseeing. The smile on her face more of a grimace. "She's fine."

"Are you sure you're alright Merl?"

"I'm fine." The exact words she repeated when she tried to stand from the window seat and crashed kneeling on the floor. Words spilling from her lips when she scrambled for a hold on his arms, her sweaty hands slipping and her panic mounting with every failure. How she stopped only when he was the one gripping her hands.

"I'm going home then. If you need anythin' don't be a stranger."

He only realized that Eggsy was indeed gone when he became aware of his own breathing. Rapid. Stumbling. Echoing. He regulated it and let go of the armrest he'd been choking. His body sagging against the chair when that was done, gaze dropping to his hands.

She was so small and lost in his arms.

 _That would be impossible to be acting, right?_ Guilt replied by festering within him. Guilt called such thought a hypocrisy. He was a soldier. He's a Kingsman. He lived through horrors that could bring anyone to their knees. He was still living in it to some degree. He was familiar. _She could still, if she's good enough. They do it for the screens._

He stomped at the thoughts. Thoughts that descended to a spiral of more suspicions luring him to feed. He threw his glasses on the desk and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. He knew the suspicions, at this point, were possible but unneeded.

He saw her disconnect. Unseeing eyes and seeking hands. He saw her overload. Thoughts that fleeted and threatened to burst at the seams.

She was so small and lost in his arms.

He pulled his hands away from his face just in time for the door to open. The moment he saw Harry, the question spilled. "How's she?"

"Hamlet brought her food and Dr. Abernathy's now with her."

He put on his glasses just to have something to do. He kept his gaze away from Harry too, trying his hardest not to read his body language and know the little unsaid details. It was safer to stare at his hands.

Dr. Rovilyn Abernathy. Head Psychologist of the Kingsman. Thirty-three years old and mother to three children. She just came back from a month long vacation leave out of the country. A proclaimed break in between her psychiatry studies. She reported to Merlin the day Percival and Mordred came back. He was planning on introducing them to each other during the HQ tour. He just alerted Rovilyn of his plans before getting Pevensie from the library. It was less than 15 minutes. Of course it would be less than that. He should know. He should've thought that this would happen. He should've done something about it. He was familiar of it. They all were.

"Was this something you expected?"

Disbelief and denial filled him, demanding that he express such emotions more than the poker face he was clinging to. More than whatever answer Harry found in his body language. He heard his sigh and could see, from the corner of his gaze, him move closer to the desk. He focused at his hands once more before his mind could interpret the unease he found in Harry's own body language to be guilt. He focused harder before it could add said guilt to his own. It was easier, because it was still replaying the scene over and over.

Merlin could be cruel, but she didn't deserve such from him.

"Did you watch the feed?"

"I wouldn't need to." He heard a poor attempt of a chuckle. Realized it came from his throat. It was true though. At this point, he's wondering how long the process of his mind letting it go would take. How many times would he review the memory? How many changes would he make with every review?

The door slammed open and admitted Rovilyn in. Her dark hair now sported a bright red ombre, something he was still getting used to. The violently swishing ponytail was the biggest sign that she was furious. Everything that would follow was just confirmation. She threw her eyeglasses to the nearest flat surface then whirled to face them. Dark eyes ablaze. "Not one. Not one of the psych's in my department ever met her. You didn't even send her to someone—anyone when you had plenty of time to do so. Did you just remember because I came home?"

"Rovi—"

"Harry." Her glare was enough to shut whatever was coming. She took a deep breath and it hissed out between her gritted teeth. She leveled her gaze at Merlin once that moment finished. Chocolate eyes disappointed first and foremost. "I couldn't finish reading the report. I was on my way here to have you explain when _I got the call._ True or not, I cannot believe that you didn't have her meet any of us, at all."

Another deep breath. She muttered under her breath. "How does one psychoanalyze and help a time displaced person?"

The silence that followed was stifling. The years of knowing each other making up for whatever was unspoken. Nightmares addressed. Lies found out because they're desperately made. Little things that everyone thought could be dismissed but were like the little pills some rely on for sanity.

Rovi picked up her glasses and put it back on, then pulled out a phone. "Time displacement aside, I need to confirm a few things. Did she pass out?"

"No. She fell asleep." Amid the slight panic of the increasing dead weight, Merlin was relieved when he heard the light snores. "She was still mumbling when I carried her."

A nod. A few taps. "Lack of sleep due to bad dreams and adjustment. Exhaustion because of spent out adrenaline. Intrusive and racing thoughts. These, she admitted to."

"Dreams?"

"Dreams. That's the word she used, which is interesting. I didn't ask for details, but if her bad dreams are your nightmares, then I can only wonder what her nightmares are about." She slipped the phone back to her pocket. "I prescribed her some sleeping pills and a week rest. Not bed rest, since she asked me to specify. A week of proper meals and proper sleep. No strenuous activities. I also advised her to try to find a normal everyday routine. This I need you to be most conscious about. Her capture surely disrupted her previous normal routine and asking her to completely return to the previous one is not only unwise because of the new setting, but also because of the possible triggers."

"What we can expect is a mishmash of old and new. I need you to be there when she needs help in the translation of the old routines to this era and the new activities."

"What do you advise?"

Was it wrong to find comfort at the way Rovi smiled? Merlin found comfort because her smile reached her eyes and they twinkled. It meant something good. Amid the pain that permeated and stayed, it meant hope.

"A complete physical after the week. I already sent a quick word to Luther about it. Then, regular check-ups with us until advised. She said that there's a tour on schedule. Merlin?"

He straightened a bit at that. That would be something he could contribute to. "Yes. It was supposed to be today."

"I encourage it."

He blinked.

"I know you want to protect everyone and there's still a question of her loyalties. But she's one person and everyone down under know their positions. This isn't the first time we dealt with things like this. Give us some credit." She rolled her eyes and grinned. "She's a woman who would die in boredom when exposed to it too much, so meeting people and doing something would help. You can even start her training, the non-physical ones of course. Pace it properly too."

She was right. He was discrediting all the members of the Kingsman by thinking they couldn't protect themselves. They've dealt with more dangerous beings before Susan Pevensie. Smugglers, traitors, and infiltrators. They would pull through.

"I can do that." He did promise Hamlet that he would try.

"She's honest to a degree and in a very roundabout way, but she is honest. Even if she's not, she is alone here. Keep that in mind."

"We will."

Rovi started for the door with an lighter gait. "Now that we have that settled, feel free to come along. I have bottles _of lambanog_ fresh from the home across the sea."

They definitely needed the drink.


	12. Training

"You sure that you're well enough for this?"  
"Scared, Eggsy?" Susan chuckled as she rolled her shoulders and stood opposite the other agent. "You don't have to hold back. I won't."  
"I don't plan to. Just being a proper gent and all that."

It's been two weeks since the incident and she was finally given the go signal for an all-out training. Of course the first thing that Merlin had to settle for training were the points of adjustment. She was more than willing to. She was itching for something to happen ever since they found conditions that they all agreed to. Given, she was agreeable to almost everything.

 **CONDITIONS:  
Rovi:**

 **She would live in the HQ for her first year back in the Kingsman.**

 **Weekly consultations with the medical departments throughout her stay and whenever necessary once she's out of training.**

 **Rovilyn be allowed to reach out to Steve Rogers and anyone necessary for assistance.**

 **Harry:**

 **Reports of the information she had disregarding her time skip such as missions and actions that the Q branch were going to partake upon her return, both current and those that she was going to do upon return.**

 **Reports on what were considered** ** _unrecordable_** **information that she had during her time. Secrets of the Kingsman that only the Trinity knew and would bring to their graves.**

 **Merlin:**

 **Her whole training would be under his jurisdiction and his alone.**

 **He would be the one to pick her first official mission.**

 **A tracker for her cat and whatever pet she would decide to get in the future.**

 **Susan:**

 **She's informed.**

It would be a lie to say that she wasn't excited. She was and also curious for so many reasons. First and foremost being if she could still fit to this time's standard of being a Kingsman. Following close was wanting to know what kind of Kingsman the world needed during this age.

"Rules?" Eggsy asked but didn't look away from her. She gave him a point for that.

"Just one." She could easily imagine Merlin looking up his cliptab to answer. He stood in between Roxy and Harry with the now familiar stern face and furrowed brows. Percival and Mordred standing together just a few steps away. "The fight ends when either of your backs meets the ground.

Susan was already moving before the last word was uttered. She crossed the distance to Eggsy, crowding his space, and aimed for his throat. Her right hand pulled back over her left shoulder. Palm down. Striking out. She saw how surprise froze his features and how instinct forced it out to react. The transition was so fast that she couldn't help her grin when he pulled back and deflected, pushing her hand to her right. A momentum she used to her advantage. She twisted her body until her hands were on the floor, right leg whipping out and hooking around Eggsy's closer leg. Pull.

There was no thud of a body falling. An ungraceful backflip instead. Another point to him. She stood back up and cocked her head to the side, catching the tension and the lack of smile on Eggsy's lips.

Interesting.

In the end she was the one with her back on the floor, exhilarated.

* * *

Eggsy was improving in terms of fight dynamics. He was more in tune to Roxy's movements even when they trained separately for the past few months. Roxy as usual, adjusted fluidly. It also helped that her stamina improved to match up with him. A definite step forward with the lack of a hiccup when Roxy stepped in and joined the fight. A step back just by the fact that their own moves were used against each other to bring Roxy down.

The hiccup that happened when Mordred and Percival stepped in was another step back. The pause that followed couldn't be denied even when they caught up after a few moments. It could turn the tide of the fight even when its four against one.

"This looks familiar."

The senior two did their best to accommodate them, but they obviously had their own agenda, Mordred in particular. What did he find intriguing enough to join the fight and bring Percival in it as well?

"Not entirely familiar. I spoke too soon."

Merlin saved the report and then turned to Susan. She looked a bit weary with her shoulders tensed. There was a slight strain around her eyes too. Things that only one could notice if they looked past the victory, amusement and intrigue that was oozing out of her.

She was able to bring down Eggsy and Roxy even with their tandem. Bring down as in, their backs would've met the ground if she didn't save them. _Played with them._ She also held herself well when the two versus one became four versus one. She brought Percival to his knees and scaled, _scaled,_ Mordred just to escape the fray for a bit. She held herself so well that the control was hers even in the end, when she dropped to her back, smirking, just to signal the end of the fight.

She might've noticed that he was staring, because she met his gaze. Of course, a standard shooting range would be familiar. It was standard. The unfamiliar would be the guns. To what degree, Merlin was curious to know. "How unfamiliar?"

"Curious modifications." She stepped away from his side and closer to the guns laid out before them. "A Tokarev with a shotgun barrel for example. Is this the new world standard or just the Kingsman?"

"Kingsman standard firearm." He stepped up to her side and tilted his head to the target. He took the modified Tokarev and offered it to her. "We'll go through the standard firearm set today. Then we'll see about the other weapons tomorrow."

"Begin."

* * *

"Wait. Don't push yourself."

"I'm not planning to."

"You have that expression on."

Susan frowned, "What expression?"

"Like this." Eggsy furrowed his brows too much and set his lips to a firm line. Susan felt her own face mimic it before warping to confusion. She knew she have certain _expressions,_ but she didn't expect that someone would point it out so soon. A little comment that echoed lifetimes of similar events. Almost like reincarnation without the dying part. "That was your face when I said we can't do bars just yet for the third time."

Third time was two days ago. The bars were the uneven bars that Eggsy was practicing on when she caught him a couple of days after their fourth hand to hand fight. She had noted his skill during their first fight, and had mulled over the idea of asking him for some extra assistance. It was cemented when such skill was consistent in the fights that followed. She asked him on the spot the moment he landed from his routine.

Eggsy agreed. They devised a schedule. Then, there they were. Susan going for her first attempt of a handspring vault.

"Don't try any fancy twist or somersault. Remember, you said you just wanted to try. Just try a flip." Yes. She did say that. She wasn't a complete beginner since she had a background of dancing. However, there were differences and she wasn't planning on crossing the line. She wasn't aiming to be a gymnast, but to learn something new that she could incorporate to her techniques. "Whenever you're ready."

She was honestly surprised that she was able to do it. The movement familiar and she finally understood why Eggsy chose to start with this.

"You do quite a number of one-handed backflips to evade. Handstands would be easy for you. Also, I've thought of ways to counter those evasions. Am yet to act on them."  
"I'm surprised." She grinned. "With the tally we have I thought I need to make the patterns more obvious."  
"Well, you were a newcomer." He threw her towel at her face with a laugh. "Emphasis on were."

She glared at him, for a moment. He gave her a deceivingly innocent smile that she could only roll her eyes to. She threw the towel back at him and returned to the starting point, rolling her shoulders on the way. "Emphasis noted, most humble Eggsy."

"Appreciate it."

She did another vault. A small falter on the landing that could easily be remedied. She did another.

The movement gave her a rush that put her to a quick transition of emotions. A strange hyperfocus-blank-hyperfocus pattern that spanned a few seconds.

She vaulted again.

"You should have Roxy teach you something too."

"I am not yet prepared to know the intricacies of clubbing as a price for it." She felt his hands on her back guiding her through a vault. She landed steadier after. "Thank you."

"Don't push yourself. Give yourself a breathing break in between." He nudged her away from the vault and handed her some water. "You go out to look around the area almost every other night. I'm surprised she hadn't lured you into one when she goes with you. And what's the price of my lessons? I haven't received any payment."

"Because you're the one paying."

"Oi! That wasn't in the details of our business arrangement."

"We are yet to settle a contract about it."

There was a pause, both of them looking at each other with barely held grins. "It's weird talking about a business arrangement that includes Captain America in the details."

She couldn't help but laugh at that only for it to cut off midway.

It was strange. She could still feel the undercurrent of tension, but she could easily ignore it if she wanted to. Sometimes, she couldn't even feel it. She doubted that they trusted her completely, but their effort was heartwarming. "Thank you, Eggsy."

"Not a problem." He winked at her. Another roll of her eyes. He chuckled and made his way to the vault table. "But really, ask Roxy."

"I know." She started her cool down stretches. "I'm mentally preparing myself for that clubbing. That's the least I could do."

"I'm not gonna force you if you don't want to, Susan." Susan was halfway a stretch when she heard it. She completed her stretch in the silence that followed and when she unfurled, there was a smile. Roxy stood just outside the gymnastics area watching Eggsy do his own set of vaults.

"I want to." That took Roxy's attention. A gaze that dissected her sincerity and her reasons. "I am curious."

Roxy didn't grin or even smile. She just shifted her body weight to the side, hips jutting out. "I'll make sure not to disappoint."

Susan wasn't sure if she should be curious, scared, or excited.

Eggsy landed with a final flourish. "You can always research it, Su."

"No. Don't. Don't you dare."

Susan could only nod at that. The last Susan heard, Roxy was sent to a quick recon mission. She didn't know the details but she noticed her coordinating with Mordred. It was her turn to look at Roxy for injuries. "Have you gone to the infirmary?"

"I just came from debrief. Merlin wants to see you, Susan. He'll meet you at the lab. Harry's looking for Eggsy."

They were already moving.

Merlin asking for her was out of scheduled routine. Susan always had her lessons with Eggsy before afternoon tea. Afternoon tea that she spent with either David, Hamlet, or Rovilyn. After tea, her lessons will continue. Wednesdays would be History and Economics with Mordred, while Tuesdays were for code making and breaking with Roxy. But with the mission call, Merlin had been substituting for both with the help of Eggsy and Harry.

"How is Francis? Is he back?" Susan expected Mordred to be back, but there's always a chance he went straight to another mission.

"Yes. He wouldn't be staying though. Something came up."

Susan was privy to some information the moment she started official training. Primary of them was the drug syndicate that they were still pursuing. It proved to be a complex dismantling project. The war that Mordred and Percival instigated between the now annihilated Carter syndicate and this newly named Candy one made it a fact. They disappeared for a week with a series of candy drug related deaths in their wake. All children. It was horrifying to see in the morning news.

"Any news about Uncle?" It was Roxy's turn to ask.

"Whatever Merlin told you is what we have. We haven't had news of Alistair." Or at least news about Percival that's not top secret.

"It's still too early for reports. Give him some credit Rox." Eggsy paused which made them look at him. "Should we change before meeting them? I ain't smelling like a summer garden all sweaty like this.

Roxy gave a small smirk. "Harry had seen you in worse, Eggsy. Go."

He was gone with only a parting nod. Roxy turned to Susan then. "You need to change though. I think you have an appointment out."

Curious.

"I'll be going to the infirmary. I don't know what Harry and Merlin are planning, but better be ready."

"Thank you Roxy. Take care."

They parted ways. Susan made sure to change quick. There was little possibility that she'll be sent out to a mission, but she could help in other ways. She was more than willing. She would take paperwork if she's allowed. Healing people, if she's not allowed. Anything.

She was breathless when she reached the lab doors. She didn't run, but she walked in haste. Running would be an overreaction to the information she had. She knocked. Let the silence have a chance after.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Si— She opened the door and stepped right into Tension's arms. Raised shoulders. Glares. Hands wanting to turn to fists but did not, should not. Two men stood before each other and her entrance did nothing to break their glaring match.

One.

Two.

Three.

"Should I come back after you've regained your maturity?" Susan raised an eyebrow. "If you actually gained one in the first place."

Francis scoffed, pulling back from the glaring match. "Tell that to him. He's not the one facing the horror first hand."

Merlin returned to his workstation, fingers moving in routine. In a few moments, the programs and files on the screens disappeared. Susan caught few details about the possible debrief and probably the reason of their conflict. "We couldnae be reckless in this. Ye know that Mordred."

"You think I don't know? There's harm in being too careful as well. Surely that, you know." Subtle disdain and desperation, a combination Susan was familiar of hearing. "What we're doing is stretching this too long."

"Did something happen? Mordred?" In all the days she'd known the man, he was kind even amid his obvious mischief. It was a different ilk than Eggsy's mischief, but it was a sort that Susan had experience with. She enjoyed his company, both in silence and noise. She enjoyed their little games and storytelling during her lessons with him.

Francis didn't answer her question and his countenance cleared away the anger. He gave her a tired and bitter smile instead. She scowled. She had lived too long and too many times for this dawdling. She placed a hand on his arm. It took a lot not to grip down and hold him there. "What happened Francis?"

She pleaded with her eyes.

"One of Eunice's friends was a victim. I don't want him to just be a statistic." Francis' expression was more a physical blow before his words could even sink in. The emotions in those blue eyes were too much. "The boy was barely nine years old."

Eunice. Francis' eight year old niece. A little girl who loved making laminated keychains from her drawings and giving them away. A child that Susan was yet to meet but could imagine to have a smile as bright as Lucy's. A child with the same fascination and determination to art as her late sister had. Eunice, who Francis talked about with a soft smile that reached his eyes.

 _Something always felt more real when you know someone going through it. The danger loomed closer and its choking hold wrapped close._

"Francis." She could feel the anger beneath the touch of her hand. She wanted to know the details. She needed to, but it wasn't her place to ask. "Care and recklessness can work hand in hand, but it requires a delicate balance. I—We do not want you to just be a statistic."

The tension reached for a crescendo in silence. It jumped over the blades of realization as they were stabbed to their conscious.

"Thank you." The tension broke with a sagging sigh. Francis moved away, going to the door before pausing and turning back to them. "Expect a report in two days. I'll try to put more details this time."

"Come back alive, Mordred."

"Of course, Merlin." The smile made the atmosphere lighten for a bit. "Wish me luck, Queen Guinevere."

"You have all of it."

She was only able to sigh quietly in relief when the footsteps faded.

"Miss Pevensie."

"Merlin."

There's the new tension. He moved to the other door of his lab. "Follow me."

Silence accompanied them to the shop. It accompanied them when Merlin motioned her to ride shotgun as he took the driver's seat of a car waiting for them there. It lounged on the back seat and Susan was a bit thankful it stayed there. Tension claimed the dashboard.

"You plan to continue substituting." The view outside the window was familiar from her excursions, so she turned away and stared at him. The only sign he heard her was the slight tilt of his head to her direction. A habit she noticed easily only because she knew of so many who did the same. Wolves, Ravens and Crows, Owls, Edmund and herself, to name a few. "While being Merlin as well."

Other than the advantage of technology and modernization, nothing much had changed with the tasks of The Trinity. Harry had told her such. And while she was slowly understanding the technological advantage, she also saw the responsibilities it added.

It was easy to conclude that Merlin had been and was still doing a herculean task. Silence reigned once more after that. Susan turned back to the window and let herself be drowned in thoughts and memories.

The travel didn't take long compared to her first two trips with the Kingsman. It did take them to the sparser part of town and it piqued her curiosity. She thought they were going to a shooting range but the engine dying before an obvious animal rescue center was surprising.

The Kingsman of her time never required animals.

The door opening pulled her back to reality.

"Please." Merlin paused halfway out the car. "Please, do not stretch yourself too thin.

You're bound to miss something big if you carry on like this."

A beat of silence was all the sign she got that he listened. Then,

"I don't plan to be a statistic."

After that, he was gone and she needed a few moments to actually react. The reaction? Another roll of her eyes and a smirk. The latter stayed when she stepped out the car and followed to where he was. He did wait for her by the door and explained why they were there.

"Welcome to—Mr. Dareon! We haven't seen you in a while." There's a tired and sheepish chuckle. "Given you did call to schedule but I definitely forgot about that with everything."

"It's nice to see you again, Aileen. Busy week?"

"Oh, more so than usual. We're scattered with the multiple rescues and coordinating with other shelters. I'm really sorry. I hope we still give a good impression to the Miss." Aileen tucked a stray lock of blonde hair then looked at Susan with a smile. "Welcome to Eden Sanctuary. I'm Aileen."

Susan smiled and offered her hand. "Susan. Your dedication to your work is admirable. I am grateful for it and I'm sure I am not the only one."

Aileen clasped her hand and shook it. "Thank you. They deserve such effort."

"So. Mr. Dareon, how many would you be getting?"

"One. Only for Miss—" Merlin paused with a slight widening of her eyes. They haven't settled her public persona or even her story.

"Morgana." She stepped in, grinning conspirationally at Aileen. "Susan Morgana."

Susan could absolutely read the ' _Men and their memory.'_ in Aileen's grin. "The puppies are outside in the play field. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. It makes the cubs fall asleep easier when tired."

"Well. Come with me."

* * *

Merlin planned the puppy adoption to take half an hour at most. It was supposed to be pretty straightforward and even if there were plan changes, he didn't expect this sort.

This being sitting on the ground of the puppy play field; grass staining his trousers, a puppy sleeping on his crossed legs and another snuggled to the side, Susan's abandoned shoes and coat on his other side. This being watching Susan run around and play all out with the puppies, while Aileen laughed at the sides.

How?

Aileen offered. Susan accepted. She lured him with a sleepy puppy in her arms and passing it to him. _"You be the sleepy pup haven, so they don't get trampled on."_

So now here he was.

"Pull. Pull. Pull." Susan played tug of war with a border terrier with one hand, and petted a labradoodle with her other. "Stop!"

Still tugging.

"Little one, stop."

Still tugging.

"Stop."

The puppy didn't listen. She let go of the rope and let the puppy fall on his bottom. A pause, then she took the end of the rope once more. She pulled once more with a smile. "Pull!"

He looked down at the puppies he got under his care, running a finger over their heads. A beagle and a mastiff.

"Another sleepy puppy for the sleepy puppy haven." He looked up to see Aileen approach with a sleeping husky. "Is there still space for one?"

"Of course. There'll always be one." He couldn't stop the smile.

Aileen placed the pup down with care, then sat down beside it. She stretched her arms and settled with a smile. "I didn't think she'll accept the offer."

"What do you mean?"

"We always offer people who come in during the puppies' playtime. Usually, it's not even playing but just being inside the playfield as they make their pick."

They watched as Susan laid down on the grass and played with a black german shepherd labrador mix. Her white shirt stained with dirt, grass and pawprints.

"I didn't expect that she'll go all out. Everyone knew you are a busy sort, Mr. Dareon, and that you love these dogs very much. It's nice to see you bond with them again this way."

He chuckled. "Aye. I guess it's been too long since I visited to play. I didn't even realize."

"With what happened with the world recently, I'm not surprised. I'm just relieved that we're all finding our feet again and a normalcy."

Susan giggled as the pup licked her neck and pulled at her hair. Another was trying to climb up on her stomach and there was another that kept licking on her toes.

"Does she work with you with the puppies?"

"No, but she is a coworker."

"Huh. She's good with them. I thought she worked with you and you just volunteered to be the one to pick up the puppies."

She was good. She knew her way with the puppies and he noticed her testing their trainability. "Maybe it's because she has a cat."

Aileen shrugged. "Could be."

In the end, they helped getting the puppies back to their kennels. Merlin was tasked to bring the sleeping pups even then. Susan and Aileen chatted all through the process. The black german lab followed Susan while she moved within the playfield and waited for her return when she exited.

"Now, my dear little boy," She picked the pup up and settled him on the crook of her arm, then picked up her coat and shoes. "May I take you home with me?"

She got kisses as an answer.

"I'll be taking that as a yes."

"Do you have a name for him?" Aileen motioned them to a waiting area. "We rescued him just recently so we haven't named him yet."

"Yes." Susan's smile was of definite fond memories. "Maugrim."

* * *

Alistair was a chemical engineer by profession. He only ended up as a Kingsman due to curious circumstances that's worth its own story altogether. Even then, he was still a chemical engineer. He was very familiar with the basic of chemical reactions.

Or reactions in general.

Confusion. Amusement. Shiftings both obvious and not.

It would be a disservice to not start at the beginning.

He and Susan were on their way to the kitchen from one of the chemical labs. He had just finished explaining and updating her of the concoctions used by the Kingsman. He had found her knowledgeable, especially with the herbal side of chemicals. He was also surprised to find that he enjoyed their conversations and found her line of questions intriguing. It clued him on her preferences in dealing with different things.

He had seen Eggsy and Roxy rounding the corner. He had also known that they've been spotted.

"Excuse me." He honestly thought that when Susan said that it was to go to the youngsters.

No. She didn't seem to notice them and instead went to another direction. It only took him a few moments to conclude where she's going.

"Hey. Where's Susan going?"

"Be quiet and let's see."

"Uncle—"

"Quiet."

The setting? The mansion's foyer.

"I don't know you." Susan's voice almost echoed.

"A bit too forward, don't you think? I doubt you'll know each person here."

"You're too beautiful to not know and remember." Blue met blue.

 _"What?!"_ Eggsy was promptly shushed.

"Too? You make it sound so bad." The so-called stranger loomed over Susan. Her long blonde hair slipping off one shoulder to brush against Susan's cheek.

"Too bad for my heart."

"Oh?" The volume dropped. The distance decreased. "Jealousy?"

"No."

Susan's hands moved, one trailing at the other's hair and the other hovering over their face. Both stopped, shy inches from touching cheeks. Before any words could be spoken, Alistair could see what those were just from the expression on her face. "Fascination."

Her eyes flickered to the other's lips. Blood red. "Curiosity."

Back to the eyes, her hovering fingers tracing its shape. "Admiration."

A pause. Alistair could hear Eggsy's quick breathing and he was tempted to look at his state. Unfortunately, what was before him was the most interesting of the moment.

"May I touch?"

 _"For fuck's sake—"_ Eggsy's strangled words couldn't even break the tension in the room.

"I know of you, Guinevere." This time, a hand hovered and traced close Susan's lips. "Yours is a beauty that I am blessed to behold, mere lady that I am. Though, how about a game?"

"A game?"

"Three guesses for my name. Whoever wins, gains the privilege to touch."

Time seemed nonexistent. If it did, then it was stretching itself to make these few moments feel longer. Stretch it so that this meeting felt like it was long coming. That there was so much history. To whose favor was it? Susan or the stranger?

"Bedivere?"

If Alistair was just a bit closer, he would be able to describe the shift of light in the stranger's eyes. This far? He was confident with his approximation. The stranger was only a stranger to Susan, after all. He's sure there would be a slight crinkling of the corners of the eyes.

"No? Interesting. Dagonet?"

"Are you teasing me, Your Highness? Have you met Dagonet? He would never look as fabulous as me."

"Majesty. It's majesty."

Everything paused to take that in.

"Gawain!" Merlin. Stern. He stood on the other end of the hall with Harry by his side.

Susan froze, her back tensed. Gawain, with all her dramatics, sighed and rolled her eyes. "Damn meddlers."

"Gawain!" Eggsy, this time.

Gawain took hold of Susan. An arm around the waist and a large hand spanning the side of her face. Susan held onto her, fingers tangled with blonde locks. Bodies pressed by the waist. Gawain's larger form almost overwhelming Susan's smaller one as she was arched back.

They were kissing only to break apart laughing.

Harry was immensely amused. Eggsy was immensely confused. Roxy was immensely contemplative. Merlin was immensely unamused.

Alistair was immensely curious.

"Oh dear. I hope we didn't break someone." Susan turned to Eggsy. "Are you alright?"

"Horrified, but he won't be having a heart attack anytime soon." Roxy patted Eggsy's back with a smirk. "Breathe, Galahad."

"He looks torn between defending my honor and questioning said honor."

Eggsy shook his head and huffed. Susan chuckled once more.

"If it makes you feel better, Galahad, Mordred and I were introduced to the Queen as normal as one could imagine." Alistair couldn't help commenting. "Given who we are, of course."

Susan only knew of the name Alistair and Francis once they were comfortable to give it to her.

"There's nothing wrong with simple yo's and heya's, exchange of names, nice to meet you bruvs, is there?"

"No. Nothing wrong at all. Where's the fun in that, though?"

"Also, wasn't it you that proposed marriage to her after—was it three days? Such flair for drama, Galahad."

"That was just for fu—" Eggsy's eyes widened and a blush crawled from his neck to his cheeks. Alistair was a bit disappointed when it didn't reach the tip of his ears. "How'd you know that? You're not even here, Gawain."

"I'm sorry, Eggsy-dear. You are just too adorable to not tease."

"Forgiven." One needed to strain their ears just to hear that. A collective chuckle followed.

"Susan Pevensie. My thanks for indulging my curiosity."

"Cassandra Sal, a pleasure. I'm here to replace Francis for the time being. I'm assuming that you won't mind." She pulled out a handkerchief from her dress pocket, then started cleaning her lipstick stained thumb. "I'll introduce Harvey to you tomorrow."

"I'd love to spend more time with you, but please do not sacrifice your comfort."

"Thank you." Alistair hadn't seen that soft look on Cassandra's face in so long.

It was only three days later that Susan met Harvey Sal. Powersuit. Glasses. Blond hair in a low ponytail.

Alistair was there.

"Would you rather have Cassandra?"

"Do you want to be her at this moment?"

"... No."

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Then that's all that matters." Susan offered a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harvey."

Alistair couldn't help but look back a final time before he stepped out of the room. Harvey and Susan were still talking, teasing smiles on their faces.


	13. Preparation

"He acts different." Susan followed Steve's gaze to what was happening behind her. Even through the screen of her laptop, she knew what he was looking at. "He's more playful than when I was there."

"Maybe to him, you're hardly an acceptable playmate." Her pets were playing with each other, running around a small part of the garden she allowed them to play in.

"He liked me when I was there."

"But not enough to play with. I pegged you to be a dog person, Steve."

That was not the reason her cat was active. Aslan had said his partings a week after she'd brought Maugrim home. It wasn't a tearful event, nor was it tense. There were few words but it was enough to be understood. There was gratitude. However, it was the apology received that she remembered.

"I know. I know. I request so many stories of Grim and pictures to accompany it that you can't keep up. I also talked nonstop on how I would love to meet him in person." She couldn't help but chuckle at that. Her phone was full of pictures of Maugrim just because of that request. She had no right to complain though, she started it. "It's just that Battalion's always in one corner or not around in the pictures you sent. And when we talk like this, he's always observing."

"I guess he's now comfortable. Maugrim probably helped." The pup paused at hearing his name, if the sudden loss of barks was a sign. It resumed a few moments later, punctuated by a high-pitched, scandalised meow. "I brought them to see Peggy."

Susan waited until the emotions on Steve's face settled. The small smile that appeared to stay was of fondness and curiosity. The pain, something they shared and promised to move past of, stayed in his eyes. It wasn't damning or crippling anymore. It was fine. He told her during one dead night that it wasn't a betrayal, but moving on. She knew that. Some part of her did, but having someone tell her gave validity that she wasn't imagining things. "It was fun. Beautiful. It was peaceful."

Susan told Steve of Peggy. How her smile was wide and her eyes sparkled when she was introduced to the pets. How she was playful while ever being her firm self. How she remembered and how she forgot. The stories exchanged, both true and made up. They talked in length about Peggy introducing Susan to the other residents. How Susan was introduced as her 'dear oath sister that she would see happy'.

"Happy." Steve started. The twinkle in his eyes already had Susan ready the age old response.

"She still doesn't believe that I will be infinitely happy—"

"—just to be able to sleep in for however long without any worry."

She smirked and turned her nose up at him. "Bucky shared my sentiments."

"The idyllic life of the so called peaceful times."

She mirrored his smile, memories to the forefront. Bucky would always describe that idyllic life with words borrowed but remembered. She had wondered where he got the words and always thought that it was from a book read in childhood. It was so idyllic it was definitely farfetched, especially to people like them. "I wonder if he would still say the same lines if he was here."

"I hope so."

Without even thinking, Susan reached out to the screen to smoothen the crease of his forehead. A poor mimic of what she would've done if they were actually together, but it made Steve smile at the absurdity.

"If he was here, he would still be the same ilk of a martyr that you are."

She tapped his forehead through the screen and huffed.

"Says the man bearing the shield."

Maugrim and Battalion filled the silence with meows and barks.

"Do you think we deserve such idyllic life?"

"Oh Steve," She dropped the hand touching the screen and held her arms. "You're asking the wrong person."

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a voice outside the screen. It wasn't Tony, for it was meeker than the Stark spawn would ever allow himself. Susan was ready to say her goodbyes but when he called whoever it was, introductions were to follow.

Bruce Banner.

Susan found herself wanting to hug the man as tight as she could. Unable to, she did what she could to widen the smile Steve had started. "You work with the Stark spawn."

"Not completely, but yeah. Yeah."

"And how is the Stark spawn treating you?"

"Yeah Bruce, how is the Stark spawn treating you these days?"

The little twitches of Bruce's lips turned into a half-smile with Steve's echo of her question. "So is that what we're all calling Tony now?"

Steve grinned. "Only when he isn't around."

"But you're free to try when he's around. Do tell me his reaction though. Something to tease my dear Stark spawn."

Bruce blinked, realization dawning. "You're the Granny he mentioned that one time! He was so riled up he was snapping at anyone in a ten feet radius."

"Snapping?"

"Well, his more than usual sass."

"And since you work with him, are you the main target of it? You are, I assume, within the ten feet radius."

"Initially. Nothing new from the Stark spawn."

Susan laughed. "I'm sorry. 'Twas my fault. I didn't think he would be riled up that badly. I was just teasing him relentlessly. I did tell him he was free to leave since the video call was between Steve and I."

She didn't even expect that she would be able to tease Tony about something back then. She had believed that he humoured her, but to hear Bruce's account of what happened after had her grinning. "Surely, I wasn't that bad. I was just bored."

"Su, you're dangerous when you're bored."

"Hush Steve, I'm talking to Mr. Banner."

Steve rolled his eyes while Bruce looked on with a degree of wonder.

"Oh, you weren't Miss Pevensie. The Stark spawn is just wired to be dramatic. I admit he is a constant source of entertainment."

It was idle chatter after that. She wasn't updated or that knowledgeable about science that she could talk to him in length. There also wasn't enough time. Bruce called Steve for a reason and within the following minutes, they were saying their delayed goodbyes.

She turned away from the screen and was welcomed by a Maugrim bored of Battalion and a Battalion relieved of said boredom. She shook her head in fondness and reached out to beckon them to her.

"Now that that's done, let's move on to the next agenda for the day."

"I hope that agenda can be changed."

She was halfway standing when she heard the statement. "Eggsy! How long have you been standing there?"

"Don't worry, I just arrived but I do bring news that I think you will like."

"Enough to change my agenda for the day?"

"For sure."

* * *

Eggsy. Harvey. Merlin. Harry.

Whatever it was that would change her daily agenda, it was important, and it would be a lie to say she wasn't curious as to what it was.

Eggsy gave her a side glance and a grin before turning to Merlin. "Shall we start the mission brief?"

Susan blinked and before she could even stop herself, thought _finally._

Galahad. Gawain. Merlin. Arthur.

"Please do." She gave a nod to Arthur. She was a newcomer, but she wasn't a beginner in the business. Would they give her an easy one to ease her in? Would it be a farce of a mission with Kingsman strings attached? Or would they give her a mission with a challenge and a chance to prove herself?

"How much do you know about the Candy drug syndicate?"

 _The latter, then._ Susan scoured her memories for the chunks of info that she had gathered through her stay. "I know that it has been our main priority these past months. Percival and Mordred were sent to destroy a lab of the Candy syndicate, but given that we're still sending out agents it is a false lead or a lead to something bigger. I assume the latter. What little news we get isn't pinning it to any large brand or main producer in particular, so I believe we agree on the theory that we are dealing with those that mimic various brands and mix in. Also, since we're dealing with syndicates, I believe you're using the opportunity to dismantle other syndicates in hopes of narrowing down the culprit. Other than that, I am in the dark."

"That mission of Percival and Mordred's resulted to two things." Merlin took over control of the discussion. "First, was that they're experimenting on expanding. Second, was a person of interest. Both were confirmed by his most recent report."

A profile was pulled up on one of the screens along with other photos, and she took her time formulating a first impression. She leaned back to her chair and tilted her head a bit to the side, still aware of Merlin's following words.

"Lucien Alexandre. Major player in the French real estate market by being a major stockholder of multiple corporations. He recently started dabbling with the tech industry by buying stocks of a few tech giants." A man aware of his influence with charm to match. There's a permanent shadow of a smirk in every expression. She noted the haze of boredom in his eyes. Old money, she bet by the pose of his body, the easy confidence and the subtle pride of someone who'd never seen true rock bottom in life. "Other than the usual corporate and white collar crimes, his corporations are cleaner than the usual filth we deal here. We can't say the same with him."

She hummed under her breath and started memorizing the handsome face.

"Three cases of arson, which were all acquitted due to lack of evidence among others."

She gave a small nod, taming her smile to something neutral.

"The goal of this mission is to get whatever kind of information he has and will have about the Candy syndicate."

"So, go in, get information, hack his servers and security, then get out." Galahad summarized.

"Pretty much." Merlin pulled up new information on the other screens.

A gala in Paris. _So that's how they planned this,_ Susan mused. _And why I am part of this._

"Alexandre is a patron of the arts, whether it be music, visual arts, theatre or dance. He holds a gala every year to present his chosen dance companies and groups and give them the chance to perform to both old and potential business partners." Merlin paused for a moment, looking at his cliptab. Once he looked up, he carried on with providing them the details: the rough plan, their roles, a brief breakdown of the gala's security detail, and each Kingsman's goals. "I will be joining you to supervise and backup. Arthur will be staying here."

"Don't worry Guinevere," Galahad leaned over to her side, a grin in place. "I'm a good partner and backup."

"Lancelot had complaints." Gawain gave them a smirk. "I'm sure you'll find others have too."

"Hey, I do my best."

"We have a few weeks to plan and polish." Arthur took over the reins of the brief with a calm smile. "There's much to do. You're dismissed."

She stood up with Galahad and Gawain, but didn't turn to leave as they did. Instead, she watched Merlin and Harry move closer to the screens to make quiet discussion. "Arthur?"

Everyone paused and turned their eyes to her.

"Yes, Guinevere?"

"By chance, do you have any of my things from my old flat in storage?"

"Yes. We'll compile a list of what we have and send it to you so you can choose what you need."

"Thank you."

When she turned to the door, Harvey and Eggsy were standing there watching and waiting. She smiled and hooked her arm around Eggsy's. "Well _partner_ , may I have you for myself for a few?"

"Depends. Minutes, hours or days?"

"Definitely not days. Let's start with a few minutes."

"I'm at your service, Your Highness."

Susan tutted. "Majesty."

* * *

The chest on the table was made of dark wood; elegant in its plainness and mysterious in its simplicity. It stood out from its place on Merlin's work desk. Said man placed the spoon he was holding down and looked at the chest, then to the one that put it before him.

"We delivered your lunch hours ago. Please tell me that's snack."

"Afraid I can't, Miss Pevensie." He didn't miss her sigh and the slight shake of her head. He motioned to the chest. "Do you want to put that back into storage?"

He was the one to give her the list of her belongings kept in their storage the same day of the mission brief. She returned it to him an hour later with a shorter list of what she required. Most of what she asked for were boxes of clothes, accessories and a few personal affects that they returned easily. Since then, he only interacted with Miss Pevensie when she had the time to check on him during lunch.

She even brought Maugrim along to deliver his meals. She had the puppy pull a little cart with his meal as part of his training.

He couldn't say no to the puppy. He just couldn't.

He set aside his finished meal.

"No. I'm actually here to ask if you can put a recorder on what's inside." She pushed the chest to his direction, urging him to open it himself with a small smile. "I'm planning to wear it in the gala."

"Hm?" He took the chest and weighed it in his hands. "You do know that the Kingsman will provide anything you might need in the mission."

"I know. I didn't expect the Fashion Department to be that big and intricate." Her smile confirmed his suspicion that the department jumped on the chance to make something for her. He had seen the excitement when the department discovered they had a new prey to dress. He had also heard of their plans. "However, they were very considerate to consider my suggestions. I appreciate that."

He opened the chest and felt his brows furrow immediately.

Inside was a small jewelled dagger. A hand span long with the handle taking most of its size. It sported a ball of sapphire as a pommel. A handle that was littered with pieces of light blue lapis lazuli. A scabbard of black leather adorned by a smaller sapphire.

He raised a brow. She did the same in reply. A dare that he voice out his thoughts.

He was sure that the dagger was authentic. He was also sure that the dagger, though seemingly decorative, was sharp. He picked it up to unsheathe it, only to find that he couldn't. His brows furrowed further.

"It's protected by a lock mechanism." She moved closer to him, hovering by his shoulder. He could also feel her hand resting against the back of his seat. "But, someone in Facilities was able to open it and kept it sharp."

"You're planning to wear this." He deadpanned while he analysed and fiddled with the dagger. There were only a few components that could be involved as keys so the order of unlocking would be the one that mattered. "Why?"

She moved away from him, movements in his periphery.

"I studied the security detail of the gala and I think there are more ways I can gather information." He heard two soft thuds on the floor just when he failed his third try in unlocking the dagger. When he looked up, Miss Pevensie was already sitting on his desk, ankles crossed, feet bare and shoes on the floor. Her toes were no longer painted, been that way since the pink with cherries faded. She was watching him with a spark in her eyes. Curiosity. Challenge.

Her power suit brought out the blue of her eyes very well.

"So you're planning to be the clueless guest and ask for the head of security to handle your complaint." He turned his gaze back to the dagger, grasping at the last combination he tried to unlock it. "Have the dagger confiscated and use its recorder to gather information."

"Amazing." She chuckled and reached out to offer a hand to him. He passed the dagger to her and watched as she unlocked it. It was gleaming sharp when she unsheathed it. "It sounds cliché when you say it like that, but I know it depends on the delivery."

"I look forward to it." He offered his hand to take it from her.

"Truly?" That one word sounded so earnest. She _looked_ earnest when she passed it to him for examination.

"Yes."

When she smiled wide, he realized he was honest in that answer for reasons more than he initially thought. More than just being a quartermaster of the Kingsman would have reason to.

Would she meet their expectations?

"I'll work on the recorder." She gave the dagger to him and he returned it to its chest, putting it aside. "Give me a couple of days."

"Thank you."

* * *

Workload spiked two days before the Paris mission and thus, Harry was swamped and stuck in his office until ungodly hours. Mordred just returned from a successful mission. Debriefs were handled. Paperwork and reports were submitted and reviewed. Footages were reviewed. Plans were made, backups included. Damages were accounted for and information was bent and twisted to tell a story palatable to the public. That and all his regular tasks as Arthur.

That would also mean he's not the only one working at such an ungodly hour.

Merlin being around was almost always a given during these situations. Another given was their habit of winding down with some late night drinks from the kitchen before going home. So with that in mind and Merlin beside him, Harry was more than ready to unwind.

And definitely not whatever was happening in the kitchen when they arrived.

Eggsy was pouring bags upon bags of crisps into a punch bowl set on the middle of the counter. Heaven knew how many more bags of crisps there were in store because the punch bowl was almost full, he's still filling it up, and one could spy even more grocery bags of crisps lying around. Roxy snatched a handful of crisps while sliding two bottles beside the punch bowl. Scotch Whisky and Cabernet Sauvignon. Scotch glasses immediately followed.

They're both also out of their suits, wearing the most casual of clothes.

"Fuck off Rox." Eggsy swatted Roxy's hand when she tried getting some crisps again.

"There's more than enough, Eggs." Roxy popped crisps in her mouth before going back to the small liquor cabinet.

The microwave pinged.

Susan and Mordred—Francis—worked together in plating microwaved sandwiches and cutting fruit.

"What is happening?" Harry decided to break their moment to actually know what's happening. "Francis, you should be at home."

The four in the kitchen turned to him. Eggsy halfway pouring another bag of crisps to an already full punch bowl. Roxy was in the middle of pulling out a bottle of vodka.

"Harry! Merlin!" Susan wiped her hands and pulled at the collar of her two sizes too big sleep shirt that was slipping off her shoulder. "How can we help you?"

"Yeah. I should be, but I was stringed along and I can't say no." Francis slid a plate of sandwiches on the counter. Among the four, he's the only one still wearing the Kingsman trademark outfit. Sans the coat, the vest and the tie, with his sleeves rolled to his elbows.

"What exactly is happening?" Merlin stepped into the kitchen, his eyes obviously roaming and judging. Harry was curious enough to follow.

"Well, Eggsy found his—"

"—I found my Wii U in my room here and Susan owes me a slumber party. Roxy was an easy invite—"

"You begged—"

"—and Susan invited Francis to wind down. I honestly thought he'll say no. She didn't even had to beg. We've streamed enough movies already so we're playing Smash Bros and Mario Kart. You should join us."

Silence.

"You _should_ join us." Eggsy repeated, smile growing. "We need more players! We have enough space in the living room and I'm sure you're gonna have fucking fun!"

Roxy leaned against the counter and waved the bottle of vodka in her hand. "We have drinks."

"Come on. We rarely bond together and we really should! Who knows maybe we could even get a Kingsman wide game night event for all of us to bond together!"

Susan stepped away from the counter, revealing pajama pants and bare feet, bearing a plate of assorted fruits. "You don't have to."

"Oh, they do." Francis folded his arms over the counter and turned to Merlin. A smirk. "They really do."

"Francis." Susan sidled up beside him and nudged him with her shoulder.

"It's just a game, Su. Nothing they should be afraid off."

"We're too busy for this." Merlin sighed. Harry had every inclination to agree. He was the Arthur of the organization and even if Eggsy had a point, there's a mission two days from now.

Francis shrugged, "Unless they're chickening out."

The sudden tension was palpable. Harry could read Merlin's immediate annoyance and Francis' slow smugness.

" _They're_ chickening out." Roxy sighed, her tone dramatically disappointed.

"Arthur and Merlin? _Chickening_ out?" Eggsy's disbelief was so exaggerated Harry had to roll his eyes. "Fuck no. You're not _chickens,_ are you?"

Merlin and Francis were outright glaring at each other. Susan was watching them with obvious concern.

"Merlin and I will be handling the liquor." Harry cut through the tension easily.

"We will?" Merlin's tension broke into confusion. It was eclipsed by the delight on Eggsy and Roxy's faces.

"We will." He motioned at Roxy. "Let me. Move along Merlin."

Merlin muttered a slew of curses in Gaelic while rolling his sleeves up too. Harry stifled a chuckle.

* * *

Conflicts were a given in any work environment. It was also a given that for any work environment to be effective, such conflicts must be either set aside or resolved. Each Kingsman knew of Francis and Merlin's conflict to some degree.

Roxy didn't expect she would witness it to this extent.

Once they've all moved to the living room, which was filled with blankets and pillows, Harry and Merlin, along with Susan, were introduced to the game. Susan asked questions. Harry looked at the controller with curiosity. Merlin was listening in rapt attention. After a few introductory matches; Susan still had questions, Harry started calling out anyone that killed him, and Merlin had gone very quiet.

Francis kept winning and he chucked it to the fact that he had a gamer nephew. Roxy would be calling him out if Harry wasn't doing so already.

An hour later, she was proud to be keeping up. Harry had opted out the game and started a very sarcastic commentary about the characters and the impossibilities of the fights while drinking wine. Susan, who had long decided to just watch, made requests to either Eggsy or Francis or her to play a certain character she was curious about. She was never denied.

 **An observation:**

 **Susan requested Bayonetta and Zelda a lot.**

Merlin was still quiet, but quickly catching up to the point that he's defeating Eggsy and her almost consistently.

Two hours in, she had opted out because Merlin targeted her out of the match first, while Francis targeted Eggsy. Harry had replenished their liquor supply from the kitchen. Eggsy was still pushing his luck with fighting against Francis and Merlin, and failing. Susan claimed and curled up on one end of the couch.

Two and a half hours in, she had refilled the punch bowl with crisps. Eggsy finally realized that his luck had long run out and opted out the game. He also had decided to start whining that it's time to change the game being played. Susan brought Maugrim to the living room and Harry had taken the pup out of her arms and onto his lap.

Right now?

Roxy sat with her legs stretched out on the couch, openly betting with Eggsy and Harry on who will win every match. She was winning. Eggsy now owed her so many favors that she's mentally scheduling when she'll cash them out. Susan sat curled up on the other end, her back to the arm rest. She's hugging a pillow and was still surprisingly alert with watching the game in open interest. Her questions had turned from the game to the industry itself and Eggsy was happy to answer her inquiries to the best of his abilities.

Harry had taken it to himself to choose what game they're playing next, while sitting as still as possible to not disturb the sleeping Maugrim on his lap. Eggsy was sprawled on the floor, attention focused on his phone and his liquor.

Francis and Merlin were sitting on the floor, backs resting against the couch. Francis against Roxy's side and Merlin's against Susan's. Both quiet. Both tearing through one match after another.

As far as Roxy knew, no one kept count of who's winning.

She raised her arms up and stretched her back with a grunt. Once she's done that, she moved to stand on the couch. "Anyone need anything? I'm going to the kitchen for some water."

Susan perked up and looked away from the screen. "Chocolate for me, please."

Eggsy raised a hand from the floor. "Coke for me. I ate too much crisps."

She nodded and turned her attention to Merlin's tensed form. He may look like he's relaxed resting his back on the couch with legs stretched out, but the way his shoulders were tensed told another story. Francis, on the other hand, had his legs folded together and his body leaning forward.

"Harry?"

"Water for me too. Thank you." He looked up from his phone.

She stepped over the armrest to the floor, went to the kitchen to get everything and returned to a pretty much same scene.

She set the tray down on the floor, tossed Eggsy his coke, sat down to pour herself and Harry water. Once she gave Harry his drink, she hopped back to her place on the couch while pulling out the chocolate bar in her pocket.

"Su." She offered it out.

"Thank you." Susan took the chocolate with a small smile.

Roxy couldn't help but watch what happened next.

Susan ripped the wrapper with practiced hands, carefully tore a piece with her teeth, and failed to hide her widening smile at the taste. The moment she was done with that piece, she dropped a hand on Merlin's shoulder, pressed her thumb against the muscle of his back, returned to watching the match, all the while carrying on eating her chocolate.

"What did I miss?" Roxy couldn't help blurting, her eyes still glued at what she's seeing.

"Merlin and Francis finally agreed to play a new game."

"Yes! Finally! They've been at it long enough I'm actually excited that Harry chose Just Dance!"

"You will join the dancing, wouldn't you? Roxy?"

Oh?

"…Only if you join us too, Susan." Roxy grinned.

Ooh.


	14. Dress Up

Everyone in the company knew that she _loathed_ these types of assignments. They all knew that she would rather be out in the field than cooped in. Her _brother dearest, of all people,_ knew that she'd be a hell-spawn when put in these god-awful situations.

Knowing Mikhail, that was the point.

And she hated him for it.

 _"Alanna."_

"What?"

 _"Situation at the entrance. Someone's asking for Mikhail."_

"Personally?"

 _"Yes."_

"And you can't handle it because?"

 _"She's very adamant."_

"I'm coming." She growled through gritted teeth.

The sound of an underling's laughter cutting off into a cough when they saw her only served to increase her ire. How dare they be comfortable when all she wanted was to change out of her suit, and get back to her explosives? How dare they not do their work when she had to deal with these rich assholes? How dare these guests, a man and a woman, disturb her rounds for something so assuredly simple and stupid? Oh, because she was sure that it's going to be something so simple.

Entitlement. Bah.

Because, of course, Mikhail should be the one here and not her. He was the one who should be charming his way through and getting more contacts, more work.

"Are you Mikhail Vox?" The woman in question asked with a red lipped smile. Impeccably dressed in black. Her back, shoulders and arms bared and a silver snake around her neck holding everything together. "I'm sorry for taking you away from your work."

The woman didn't look an inch adamant. She looks too sweet, too happy and too naïve. Alanna could almost guarantee that she could be an airhead. It was for this reason that she smiled back, smooth and charming, because Mikhail could do it as easy as breathing, but it didn't mean she couldn't.

"Alanna Vox. I'm here now, so what's the problem?" She folded her arms and looked down at the small woman.

"Ursa Sullivan." The silver snake around her neck had eyes as red as her lips. Blank. Empty. Glinting. "A personal favor that I am willing to do anything for."

The change in tone had Alanna snapping her gaze from those red blank eyes to the other's blue ones. Firm, but far from what could call adamant. It made her want to take it in her hands and show this little woman, just how brittle that will she's showing was.

"Oh? Is that hair ornament of yours not just for show?"

A pause. Movements on the background. Her underlings shifting and hiding their faces. The little woman's man frowned darker.

"It's a real dagger."

"Apparently so."

Alanna raised her brow. The little woman smiled sheepishly. Her man moved close and laid a hand on her back. It's amusing, what a pair they make, both small and too sweet.

"It's an heirloom of our family and never raised such problems before."

"Misha." The firmness strengthened and sharpened into a warning. The power dynamic becoming obvious when the man shrugged and bowed out of the conversation almost immediately. "It's never unsheathed because we can't and it's important enough to never be disassembled and we won't."

"So you want me to babysit a dagger."

"It's hardly a baby and it's definitely not as adorable as you are." Ursa mirrored her raised brow, daring a challenge to be issued. "I am sure though, that you are just as dangerous."

Alanna didn't bite.

Ursa stepped into her very personal space either way. Close enough that Alanna could map out the freckles on her face better. Close enough that her instincts were calling action for such offense. Close enough to emphasize that she's a head taller. Close enough that she's double thinking her previous assumptions. Definitely not an airhead. Definitely not just some rich spoiled bitch.

There was a smile in those blue eyes that mismatched the smile on her lips.

"It'll match your piercings." She whispered as she raised her hands and started pulling the pins that held her hair together. "And your eyes."  
"It wouldn't even be in display," Alanna scoffed. "It's too bulky for my breast pocket."

"Then take comfort that the picture in my mind's eye would stay for the rest of the party." She licked her lips and placed a pin between her lips to hold. "I would definitely want to see it in reality."

"We'll see about that, little miss."

In the end, Alanna blamed intrigue and curiosity when she found herself pulling pins out of dark curls. She blamed it again when she felt the weight of Ursa's head against her chest and she just carried on pulling said pins then passing it to her to hold. She blamed it again when she took hold of the dagger and the questions that followed.

"How could you even wear this? It's heavy."

"For good luck." Ursa pulled away, making her look down to meet her eyes. Unfocused blues paired with a dreamy tone welcomed her. "You have nimble fingers. Have you ever thought of being a masseuse?"

She cleared her throat and chuckled. "It's way below my pay grade. Do you have a comb for your hair?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yes. Of course. Of course. A woman's necessity, combs."

"Well you look like you just had a very satisfying tumble, cousin." The chuckle was loud enough to be considered a laugh, but not quite. It broke through between them with ease and it took away the dreamy look on Ursa's face in a snap.

"Misha!"

"I'm sure she's accepted your request at this point."

"She hardly gave me a choice." Alanna smirked. "Very adamant."

"Few can say no to her, believe me. Many have tried." He offered an arm to Ursa, who took it too fast. "I'll bring her along before the end of the party. I have a feeling you'll get along."

Ursa still wasn't meeting her eyes. It was too cute. "I'll make sure to be around."

* * *

 _"Well aren't we enjoying ourselves?"_

 _"I wasn't lying when I said she has nimble fingers, Galahad."  
"Sounds like she got the upper hand."_

 _"Hmmm. I don't mind."_

 _"Oh, my Queen, aren't you a tad spoiled?"_

 _"Don't mistake me Gawain, I make sure they know of my appreciation."_

"Gawain, there's an opening within five minutes. Miss Vox just ordered the guard rotation to start."

 _"Earlier than planned. I might just be able to enjoy this party."_

 _"You're welcome. I'll save a dance for you."_

 _"I'll make sure we're the most fabulous in the room."_

"Five minutes, Gawain."

 _"Right. Right."_

* * *

The opulence was high inducing. Richness bled from the very walls and flooded the mirror like floors. The guests that moved around only amplified such lavishness. Beauty in different levels. Money in excess.

And he was among them, personally invited. Impeccably dressed with a beautiful woman clinging around his arm, the only thing required of him was to take and enjoy the debauchery.

Oh, and he's taking.

"We shouldn't be doing this." He couldn't care less and pulled her into one of the many rooms. "This isn't what we agreed on."

"You're here to accompany me and that's what you're doing." He closed the door and pushed her against the wall across it. "Accompany me well and I'll remember your name in the future. This is just the start, babe, and there's bound to be more."

"This isn't what you asked me to do."

"I paid for everything and all you have to do is be agreeable. Money for the privilege. Money for the hair and make-up. Money for you to fit in this fucking luxury. Money for the dress. Don't make me spend any more money for the stress." An unfortunate circumstance that was required by the situation, but unimportant in terms of the possibilities laid before him. In the long run, the money he spent for this one night would be inconsequential. By the end of the night, women would be the one starting to approach him and this one, this one he'll leave to the side. Like the money, she'll be worthless to him.

But for now, he would get his money's worth.

"You should be thanking me." He chuckled, pulling at the string that held her dress. She stopped it from falling by folding her arms and he gave her such control, for now. He could still smell the scent of the suburbs on her as he pressed his mouth against her shoulder. "You are so young and you're already walking amid people like us. Without any idea of what's happening. This is so much bigger than you could ever be and you are blessed a taste."

"I am here," Her voice broke with a shudder. "To do my job and, and… this-"

He sneered against her skin, tasting the fear.

"It's part of it."  
"N-no."

"Unfold your arms."

She took a gulp of breath. "Please stop. Someone might come and see."

"And there's the slut you are. Acting saintly and shit."

"That's-"

The door opened. "-not what I mean!"

The muted sounds of the party came full force, masking the carpet muffled footsteps and the voices that came along with it. All he could think about was how they better react properly at seeing that the room was occupied.

"Then what do you mean?" A man and his woman. Oblivious enough that they're not leaving the room. "I just don't want you getting carried away."

"That would be missing the point!"

"Tell me then."

He pulled his head back from his woman and stared at the ceiling, gritting his teeth.

"We're here surrounded by more money than we could imagine and the right thing to do is enjoy it to the fullest. I'm going to drink to my heart's content. Find myself a man that knows how to enjoy himself-" A pause. A held breath. "-Like this gentleman here."

He grinned. Finally someone understood.

He pushed away from his woman and ran fingers through his hair. She skittered away from the wall and to as close to the door as she could. He took the chance to survey the newcomers.

"Doesn't look like she's enjoying it." Dirty, dirty blond. Blue eyed. Distaste clear on his face. This young man still bright eyed of the world with his obvious morality. A chivalry that would be interesting to corrupt in this world of money.

"Well, it is a matter of compatibility. Hold my champagne, would you?" A vision of porcelain and ebony. She moved across the room to his woman, her voice low in a whisper. She was definitely a whole different level compared to his woman, not only in the mindset department. He watched as she helped the other retie her dress.

"You're new faces." He started the conversation, directing the question to the woman.

"We've decided to expand our field of contact and circle of friends."

He frowned when it's the other man that answered. "And which field are you from?"

"Clothing."

"What a jump."

"Dear?"

Dear. A closer relationship than he initially thought, then.

"Hmm?"

"Would you escort Sasha and find her a ride home?"

"Of course. Miss?" The gallant and innocent young man was ever the gentleman. Not even deigning him a glance or any sign of permission. His woman was too eager to accept the offer, avoiding his eyes.

"Are we switching companions then?"

"No." Finally, the woman addressed and looked at him. A sweet smile stretching her lips. She moved toward him. Her hips calling for his attention and he gave it. "Not yet, at least."

"I hope whatever that yet is would be worth my time."

"Oh. I'll make sure." She looked sheepish, her eyes sliding away as she rubbed a finger against her lips. "I would love nothing more to cause mischief, but I do need to work."

"What happened to drinking to your heart's content and finding me for yourself?"

She tilted her head, hair sliding against her bare shoulders. An impish and unsure smile teasing him with their texture and softness. "It's in progress. However, as every rich person's principle, it's work before play."

He stepped closer and took one of her hands, planting a kiss on the back of it. "What's the guarantee that you'll be coming home with me then? And that your boyfriend would even let you?"

"Boyfriend?" She giggled and raked her eyes on him before shying away again, licking her lips. "That boy? He's my cousin, and too pure for me. If I had my way, we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"What's stopping you then?"

"I can only cause mischief if I can get away with it." Her free hand pressed against his chest and the warmth only added to his high. He lost a woman around his arm, but here was a much more beautiful one already asking him to take her. A sign of good things to come. "And being obedient is part of it."

"My guarantee?" He pulled her against him and leaned closer. "How about a kiss?"

She leaned closer, blue eyes dancing. "But all I would think about is kissing you again then."  
"As if you're not going to think of it after this." He rolled his eyes. Her act of bravery and teasing was amusing. Mixed with her shyness, it tempted him to push and push. His want to break demanding to be fulfilled, but knew that the wait would be worth it.

"I would rather plan what would happen when you bring me home." She pulled away and turned contemplative, rubbing her lower lip with a finger once more. A few minutes later, she started fiddling with her earrings. "One of these. The left or the right?"

"I would rather have your lips."

"…The right it is then." She removed it and stepped back into his hold. Her hands running over his chest in circles before slipping the earring in his breast pocket. "My personal fortune as a guarantee. I definitely won't forget you now."

Her fingers played with the top of his breast pocket, her gaze far away.

"Changing your mind?" He wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed her against him.

"No. I was thinking I should have a guarantee too."

"I'm willing to offer my lips."

She chuckled, arms wrapping around his neck. "I'm seeing a necklace."

He nuzzled his nose against her hair as he felt her remove his necklace and pull away from him. "Far from a fortune."

"Important enough." She stepped back, slipping it around her neck. She took a quick look at the dog tags. "Patrick Howell."

"And what should I call you?"

"Little Bear."

Oh, he would definitely love breaking her act of bravery. He would enjoy making her cry in pain and pleasure.

* * *

 _"How's Sasha?"_

"Galahad was able to get her a ride home."

 _"Thank you."_

"You cannot make sure of her safety after this night."

 _"We cannot ensure many things."_

"And the earring?"

 _"Everything returns from where they began. No need to worry."_

"I do not worry."

 _"And I worry so much."_

 _"Where to next, Little Bear?"_

 _"Give me an hour alone, dear."_

 _"Got it. I'll be close by for back up."_

"Gawain?"

 _"Merlin. The floor plans you showed us was pretty inaccurate. The amount of secret passages not in it exceeded my ten fingers already."_

"Unimportant for now. Three minutes before the next rotation. Have you found any more information?"

 _"Yes. I'm going to the next location. This man is so paranoid to have different and secret layers of security in different locations just within this mansion."_

"Not paranoid enough if they're confused by the many layers enough to not monitor it."

 _"And Miss Vox?"_

"She's temporary security just for this event. Temporary enough to be uninformed."

 _"-durchbrüche_ ** _?"_** Breakthroughs?

"Guinevere."

 ** _"Ja. Das ist immer das Muster. Technologie. Essen. Medizin. Dann alles andere. Dann wieder. Alexandre kannte ein solches Muster immer und unterstützte es immer."_**

Technology. Food. Medicine. Then everything else. Then repeat.

 _"Ist das der Grund, warum die Gästeliste so unterschiedlich ist? Wir waren überrascht, die Einladung zu erhalten."_

 ** _"Genau. Es geht nicht um Geld, sondern um die Bereitschaft, das zu tun, was nötig ist."_**

It's not about money, but willingness to do what's necessary.

 _"Sie scheinen Alexandre gut zu kennen. Wie soll ich seine Aufmerksamkeit auf sich ziehen?"_

 ** _"Er ist ein sehr guter Charakter richter, also liegt alles in Ihrer Hand. Er wird wissen, ob ich dir Tipps gegeben habe."_**

 _"Bekomme seine Aufmerksamkeit und ich bekomme deine, oder?"_

 ** _"Nicht nur ich, sondern noch viel mehr. So viele mehr."_**

* * *

The woman looked a bit disheveled. Two locks of her hair pinned hastily back to clear her face. Her dark curls tumbled in disarray against her bare back. She also breathed a bit too hard, but there was a brightness in her eyes and a grin on her lips. She looked over the ballroom, where couples danced and everyone mingled.

She was a guest. It was clear from her attire and the jewelry that adorned her.

Lucien Alexandre watched this woman as her body moved with the music and her bare feet tapped a beat faster than the current rhythm. He moved closer and turned his gaze to the ballroom floor that she was watching so fondly. "If you want to dance, I am sure you wouldn't have any shortage of partners."

She didn't turn, but she tilted her head to his direction in acknowledgement. "I've had my fill of the dance for now. One of the groups was gracious enough to find volunteers to join them, and it was as exhilarating as I've always remembered."

"You sounded like you haven't danced in so long."

"Oh, I've danced recently. It's just that it's been so long since I've danced with others the same way. Instinctive, wild and free."

He looked at her once more. He wasn't around when the presentations were performed and to hear this deviation from the usual norm was news to him. "Which group was it?"

That made her sigh and finally look at him. The first thing he noticed made him smile.

"What's with the wide smile?"

"Did you lose an earring during the dancing? Or is that a fashion statement?"

She laughed. "It's amusing. I've been losing things here and there throughout the party. Primary of them would be just losing my way. I blame the architecture, interior decoration and the paintings. Especially the paintings."

"Poor paintings."

"There were so many I haven't seen before and they tell so many stories. Whoever collected them must've loved them very much."

That made him look at her in a different light. "You don't think that it's just because they have the money and the time? That they're bored of what to do with the excess?"

"I'd like to think not. If that was how it went, it wouldn't last like this. Something made them continue to collect. Something about these paintings that they wanted to understand. It's the same with the dancing and the singing. Yes, it's for an audience, but to carry on for so long?"

"If I showed you a painting, would you tell me the story you see?"

"As long as I don't get lost to and fro, and you tell me the story you see. Also, fair warning. I'm not the best storyteller in my family."

"That I can do."

"Ursa Sullivan." She picked up her heels and offered her free hand. "Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Alexandre."

He took it and pressed a kiss on her palm. Then, wrapped her arm around his own. "Would you forgive me if I say I don't remember the names of everyone in the guest list?"

"It's understandable and there's no need to be charming about it. I did come here hoping to speak business with you."

"There will be time for that later." His interest of her has eclipsed any thought of business at the moment. And with the meeting he just came out of, he needed a break.

They made small talk as they walked, or at least what she considered small talk. It wasn't about the weather or the news or even the party happening below. It was about him. It was about her. She asked about what he looked for in paintings and how the process of acquiring them went. She asked of how it felt to walk along halls filled with art every day. Of thoughts that he hadn't visited in a while or even made. She accepted his answers, whatever they may be, prodded and pushed when allowed and listened. She told him of what she would've felt and thought. Told him of what she would've done if she was in his shoes. He watched as she took everything in, from the sights and sounds to their meanings. Her eyes shifting from one emotion to another.

It was interesting to find someone of whom these conversations were easy. Where the distance that was his default was narrowed but ever present. Where it took less effort but with the same engaging and satisfying results.

He wondered what it would be like in a longer run. If she would stay the same or if she would require more as everyone else did. If she would be as entertaining as she was at present. If she would listen enraptured about topics more than art and dancing. If she was or would be as ambitious as he was.

"We're here." He unlocked his office and escorted her inside, not missing her sweeping look and the amazement on her face. He knew the layout of his office like the back of his hand, of course, but her expression brought satisfaction and a surge of power through him.

"Here I thought you're the type that would have a grand self portrait in your office."

"Should I be happy that I didn't fit such expectation?"

"Maybe."

Her eyes were already searching for the painting in question, so he turned her around to where it was. He watched closely as wonder touched her expression and how it softened to fondness.

"This already has a story." Her words bled with affection and her delivery was something he hadn't seen before. "But this is a better rendition than most I've seen. Happier."

"I want to know the story you see."

"Of a Persephone that loved her Hades and was loved in return. Of a winter that is a happy reunion, full of warmth and mutual affection."

He listened as she pointed out the smiles and the bright eyes. He followed her hand with his gaze as she motioned at Hades' loving hold. How Persephone was light amid the darkness, but it didn't mean that she shouldn't be there. If she chose and was happy to be, which was the rendition Ursa liked more, then that's where she would be. Their expressions that of safety, happiness and contentment.

"Why did you choose this as the painting in your office?"

"What do you think?"

"Are you looking for your Persephone?" She gave his hand a pat. "I'm sure you'll find her. Someone that'll accept your Underworld, however dark it is."

He smiled back. Maybe he would see how this would go.

* * *

 _"That's the last of it. Are you able to get full access?"_

"No. Guinevere is already in Alexander's office and I can't get visual access from the cameras. It's another separate security system."

 _"I'm sure I can find something."_

"That would be enough. Go back to the floor. Guinevere and Galahad might need backup."

 _"Noted."_

* * *

"You little bitch!"

This wasn't how Lucien imagined it to go and so soon. The moment he escorted Ursa out of his office and back to the ballroom, a man barrelled in and pulled her away from him. A very drunk man. His voice loud and words slurred. He attracted gazes and whispers but no one dared to step in.

Ursa's gaze shifted from serenity to rage, without any panic in between. She tried to pull away, only to be dragged even closer to the drunk man.

"You gave me a guarantee, fucking slut. Then you go around offering yourself without any care. Opening your legs to anyone with money. Acting like a virgin when you just stepped out from another fuck!" He shook her, gripping her arm tighter. "So how was this asshole then? Did he fuck you against the wall or on the table? You looking and teasing me all around the mansion like you owned it, letting lechers touch you as if they're already fucking you."

The rage flashed brighter in her gaze and Lucien waited eagerly on what would happen next.

The drunkard opened his mouth again, but before a sound came out, Ursa smashed the heels she still held across his face. She didn't cower, hesitated or shook.

"Do you not know who I am? I know the host and I could drag you to the nearest room to fuck." The drunkard's fury mounted and he lashed back. Hands reaching out for her neck. Lucien blinked and tilted his head. Ursa stepped back, making the drunkard catch her necklace."The host will even encourage me to do so."

Ah. Lucien finally found the name for the face. "Not at all, Mr. Howell."

"What the fuck did you say?" Howell tugged at the necklace and snapped it off.

Against Ursa's pale skin, a streak of red smeared and followed the trail of the snapped necklace. Lucien took a deep breath and followed the smeared line. Fascinated. Compelled. Then he moved, stepping between them and pushing Ursa behind him. The rage in her blue eyes and that red smear against pale skin imprinted in his mind. Yes. Yes. He would definitely see how this would go. How much this Ursa Sullivan had in store. How far she could go.

"I said 'not at all', Mr. Howell." He saw Miss Vox marching to where they were and from another direction was another man with panicked eyes. "I wouldn't allow you to badmouth anyone in such a way and you're making me think that I shouldn't have invited you here at all. Especially, if you don't even remember what your host looks like."

Miss Vox grabbed Howell by the arm and pushed him to the ground. Her eyes looking at Ursa and widening in recognition. A story he would love to know later.

"Thank you, Miss Vox. Can you please pass him off to Guilford? Tell him that I would see to him personally."

"Of course, Mr. Alexandre." She started dragging him across the floor for a few feet before pulling him back up. The crowd parting to let them pass.

"Miss Vox?"

A pause.

"Once that's done, please come to my office."

"Ursa!" The other man Lucien saw broke through the crowd and moved for her. He stepped in between, feeling her tension and her rage bleeding out with adrenaline. "Let me see her."

"Misha." He felt her hand on his arm and turned to her. "He's my cousin."

He nodded and stepped away.

Then stepped away a few more to address his guests. Apologies spilled out as easy as breathing, the right pitch and inflection perfect. His smile the right level of remorse and annoyance, words fitting and well meaning. Each word touching smiles on their faces and the music restarting. By the end of it all, it was like nothing happened but the warning was clear and accepted.

Once the party was restarted, he turned back to the Sullivans as they whispered assurances to each other.

"I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan for such incident. I will make sure to personally attend to Patrick Howell. But for now, let me take care of Ursa. I'll escort her back to my office to see to it."

"I'll come—"

"There's no need. I wish to at least give one of you a chance to mingle and create connections. I'll make sure she's safe." He ended any possible argument by offering a hand to Ursa, making sure that his smile was comforting and tilted in just the right angle. It was an effort, but with how she took his offer with eyes still the color of chipped ice of rage and a tremble just under her skin, it was more than worth it. "Back to my office then."

Her expression shifted and it was so close to that of the painting's. Persephone wanting and content of where she was.


	15. Dress Down

"Gawain. Change of plans."

 _"Follow Miss Vox. On it."_

"No. Patrick Howell. Wherever this Guilford's taking him, I need you to be there."

 _"On it."_

"No interaction with Gawain."

Merlin turned to another screen for the progress of the searches he pulled up. Names, faces and phone numbers that Guinevere was able to easily acquire through her rounds of mingling. All of them dropping at least a disturbing line alluding to something bigger and whatever it was, had been long in the making. The ease she worked in filtering and pinpointing the crowd to get such substantial information without any guidance from him spoke of her experience. It also rendered his plans of intervention and input to the absolute minimum when it came to her actions. He wanted to see how she operated in as close a situation as she used to back during the war and its aftermath. She got results and with the help of the Kingsman tech, even more than he expected.

 _Technology. Food. Medicine. Then everything else. Then repeat._

 _"I'm sorry for being distracted."_

 _ **"Junge, junge, Alexandre will take care of her. Ja? I still don't understand what happened with the arschloch but it'll be dealt with. Your cousin is in good hands."**_

 _"I'm now rethinking if this was the right decision. The invitation came out of nowhere and now my cousin's attacked. Was it even worth it?"_

 _ **"Ja! It's nothing but a roadblock. I'll make sure of it. Your cousin's a smart woman, for her to be part of our venture is an honor."**_

Klaus Reinhardt. A name mentioned only twice or thrice at most during the Kingsguard's initial espionage on Alexandre, but here he was acting like he was so much closer to their target than they thought. It wasn't only the man's older age that was highlighted by Galahad's projected innocence, but also his cunning and obvious familiarity of what was happening. He had mentioned to Guinevere that getting Alexandre's favor would be the first step and now that she succeeded a new game was set. He was not the only one amid the crowd of businessmen that surrounded Galahad. All of them people of which Guinevere had talked to about different matters. All of them quite taken by said woman in different ways.

He shifted his gaze to the other set of cameras.

 _ **"You're still trembling."**_

 _"Adrenaline."_

 _ **"Maybe talking would help."**_

 _"I'm going through my destructive thoughts. I doubt that's something you want to hear."_

The cameras embedded in the snake eyes and her earring provided a limited angle, but the pause Alexandre took was noticeable. More noticeable through the surveillance cameras. Merlin focused his attention to these screens.

 _ **"Tell me."**_

 _"Mr. Alexandre, my mother would slap my mouth—"_

 _ **"Ursa. Tell me these thoughts."**_

 _"Well, ways of killing him in that moment and more ways if I was given the time."_

Merlin had overseen more than a thousand missions and had participated in the active field full time before that. There were many obvious differences between veteran spies and the new ones. However, the subtler ones were more important in the long run. Practices that were needed to be straightened out and mastered as easily as breathing. Little things that could instigate the whole failure of the mission. A slip that could lead to a fall. Like Galahad's initial unfamiliarity to the socialite's unspoken rules. Or Lancelot's struggle in realizing identities to adapt to. Even them, long in the business have such flaws.

 _ **"How would you have killed him?"**_

 _"Stabbed his eyes with my heels and twisted his neck. In my head though, I'm listing down a full torture session. It helps with the stress."_

 _ **"Indulge me."**_

Those were his main worries for this mission. Which was why the moment they stepped out the car at the beginning of it, he wanted to ask her if she knew what she was doing and what she had planned. He wanted to open the commlink and ask her what she was seeing that he didn't. He wanted to tell her again what the goal was and that there were easier ways to get it, and that Galahad and Gawain were there because this was her first mission. He had previously informed Galahad and Gawain to make sure that she was allowed to maneuver her way but with a consideration of her safety. There was a reason why Gawain was in charge of the security detail.

At this point though, much has changed.

The surveillance cameras became useless the moment Alexandre and Guinevere entered his office.

 _ **"Sit down here. Let me get a medkit and let's see to that wound."**_

 _"Fire."_

 _ **"Hmm?"**_

 _"I was thinking how it would look and feel to burn his testicles off."_

 _ **"For you or for him?"**_

 _"More for me. I've always wondered if the surge of power I feel when I imagine would be the same in actuality."_

 _ **"It is. Any situation where you know you have the control will give you the sense of power. He's most likely to pass out though and that won't be entertaining."**_

 _"Maybe just until he's on the brink, then give him some breathing room."_

 _ **"What guarantee was he talking about?"**_

And Guinevere told him.

 _"Merlin."_

"I'm here."

 _"Guilford's bringing Howell underground. Miss Vox is returning to Alexandre. I might not be able to provide communication. It's getting harder to find hiding places."_

"Keep safe."

He limited the commlink and made sure that the feedback to the others were minimized. Heard, but minimized. Having a shared commlink without any ability to modify each line had caused them trouble before. He wouldn't risk it now. It was the same with Guinevere whenever anyone came too close to her commlinks.

 _ **"So Howell has your earring. What's the story with Miss Vox then? Does she have anything of yours as well?"**_

 _"She's safekeeping something of mine. I was hoping maybe I'll get it back when she comes here."_

 _ **"A necklace? A ring? Or a bracelet?"**_

 _"Nothing like that. Would you like to guess some more?"_

Alexandre finished putting back the medkit and went for his desk. Where the goal of the mission was. Merlin had a feeling that the security of the room was in that same computer on his desk, if not then it would lead there.

 _ **"Did you give her a guarantee as well?"**_

 _"No. Not at all. She's more agreeable than Howell and she's not about to rape someone under your roof."_

 _ **"There are better places in the house to do it. More comfortable too as long as it's with someone that actually gives consent."**_

 _"Indeed."_

 _ **"Howell had potential for what we had in mind, it's disappointing that inviting him was a waste."**_

 _"I hope something good came out of this party for you though."_

 _ **"You."**_

 _"Business wise."_

 _ **"You."**_

Pause.

 _"Confident, aren't we?"_

 _ **"I achieved this point of power because of such confidence. I did promise that we will be talking business, didn't I?"**_

Alexandre motioned her to move to his side, the light of the screen making the shadows on his face more sinister.

Merlin took a sip of his coffee and waited.

 _"Would you..."_

Alexandre looked up and met her gaze.

 _"Would you promise my family and people's safety, before anything else?"_

His face warped into a smile that was more a smirk. His eyes twinkled and crinkled almost mockingly. An expression that spoke nothing but amusement to her statement.

 _ **"You are too good, Ursa. Too kind."**_

He moved around the table and took her hand, guiding her to his side before the computer.

 _ **"Come see before I clean everything up. I'd like to hear your thoughts."**_

It was Patrick Howell's profile.

Merlin was already deep in work making more connections and hacking his way through more information he got from that profile and into Patrick Howell's link to this all. Emails. Texts. More of anything and everything he could extend his hold onto.

 _"Do you have one of me too?"_

 _ **"No. Not yet. I'll make sure to show you yours once I've had it drawn up."**_

 _"I'll hold you to that."_

 _ **"I hold onto my word."**_

 _"Interesting. Howell doesn't look capable enough to manage such a big company. I wouldn't agree to some of his decisions though. A bit too reckless to lose some assets when it could've been prevented in the first place."_

 _ **"Ambition is quite important in this field of ours."**_

 _"Ambition can only do so much. Without preparation and precision, it'll be nothing but a quick rise and a disappointing fall. My family is ambitious, but we wouldn't have lasted as long as we do now just because of it."_

 _ **"And are you ambitious?"**_

 _"I'm careful."_

Knocks intruded and the door opened to admit Miss Vox inside.

 _ **"Miss Vox, my thanks for bringing Mr. Howell to Guilford. I called you here to accompany Ursa while I handle our drunkard personally, as promised."**_

Miss Vox only nodded, eyes clearly sliding to Guinevere's direction.

 _ **"I remember, you were going to return something to her, right?"**_

Miss Vox approached the table and pulled out the dagger, offering it to Guinevere with a smile. _"Ursa, as promised."_

 _ **"Miss Sullivan."**_

 _"What?"_

 _ **"Miss Sullivan."**_

 _"Miss Sullivan, as promised."_

 _ **"Do I even want to know,Ursa?"**_

 _"We only discovered that this is a real dagger today, Mr. Alexandre."_

He shook his head in amusement and pressed a kiss on her cheek.

 _ **"I'll be retrieving your other earring then."**_

 _"There's no need."_

 _ **"Nonsense."**_

He locked his computer and then stepped out the room.

* * *

Susan stood before the painting, taking in its details and wringing her hands together and biting her lips. She could feel Alanna's gaze on her. The painting's gazes reminding her of the answers implied but never given. Answers she could already figure out but wanted confirmation of. Telling her that their story was as everything else, just part of a larger whole. She tried her best not to smile too wide.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Are you alright?"

She let show her exhaustion and stretched her lips to a smile. "The silence makes me remember what happened."

"He's a right asshole."

"I'm more worried about Misha, actually. Would it be too much to ask you to fetch him? He must be so wrecked. He promised to protect me."

"I can have someone fetch him."

She shook her head hard and reached out to take Alanna's hands. "No, please. Can you fetch him yourself? He knows you, and your words would comfort him more than anyone could. I will do it myself, but... I'm scared."

"I understand. I'll be back with him as soon as I could."

She smiled in relief. "Thank you, Alanna. He's likely to be pacing through the ballroom as we speak."

She listened until Alanna's footsteps faded completely, then took another deep breath. She tried not to smile and instead shook her head again.

Decades have passed and things have changed, but as much as they changed they stayed the same.

Susan moved to the computer, pulling out a pair of gloves from her clutch and slipping them on. "Merlin. Please tell me you can get past the password and clear the security of this room."

 _"If it's not an overly complicated biometric type, yes."_

She pressed one of the snake's eyes and pulled out a pen drive from its mouth. She plugged it in and watched as screens appeared in succession.

"And if it is?"

 _"Pray."_

"Galahad. I need you to do a cat and mouse with Alanna. Make it look like you're looking for her too and you just keep on missing each other." She started opening drawers and scanned them without touching anything. There were interesting features in those drawers but it would seem that Lucien Alexandre wasn't a paper and pen person.

 _"I see her."_

"Where's Gawain?" She moved around the room, searching for hidden nooks and crannies. Her gaze always ended to the painting. When nothing came up from her initial search, she approached it. "Merlin, how is Gawain?"

 _"... Underground, monitoring Howell."_

"How about Alexandre?"

 _"On the way. Held back by some guests."_

After a few rounds of checking the room for any hidden pathways or drawers, she gave up and stepped back to find more clues instead.

 _"Guinevere, get the pen drive. I'm clearing the security footage. Galahad, meet Miss Vox."_

"On it." She pulled the pen drive and slipped it back the mouth of the snake, then locked the computer. After that, she made sure everything was in order then slipped off her gloves and put it back in her clutch.

It was after a few deep breaths and a good number of rounds of pacing that the door opened.

"Misha!"

* * *

Eggsy had partnered and worked with a good number of Kingsman agents. Through these missions, he had figured out who he could work well with and who he struggled with. He had also learned how to adapt and to find a working dynamic. He's not the best at it, but he's definitely improving.

He was considering ranking Susan at the bottom of his top 5 list. He was even considering a bit lower.

It's not that she's hard to work with, not at all. Especially, for their first time working together. She's a marvel to see in the field and he had already learned a lot of useful techniques from her that he was able to test during this mission.

She was terrifying.

Susan didn't intimidate him in the way that other senior Kingsman did when they partnered up. It wasn't the gap of knowledge and experience that made him worry. It wasn't the chance of dismissal whenever he put forth an idea. He was the one that noticed the incident with Sasha and Patrick Howell, after all. It wasn't how at ease she was amid all of this. The fact that she gathered gazes and attention as easy as one could collect sand in a bucket wasn't even a minor thing.

No. Not those things.

It wasn't even the power that she exuded as easy as breathing.

He watched as Susan walked to and fro across the room. He watched as she paused before the painting every three rounds. He watched as she wring her hands and look at the painting then the door for ten seconds, before doing the routine again. He watched again and again for minutes he had stopped counting on.

 _"Alexandre's here."_

Susan didn't pause. Eggsy hummed.

"What do you see?" Miss Vox finally spoke up. "In the painting."

Susan carried on another round, before finally stopping before the painting. "Questions."

Movement filled Eggsy's hearing. Footsteps. A chair was dragged somewhere. Some muffled words. Sounds soft enough to signal that Cassy was too far from the heart of the scene.

 _ **"-for a great cause-"**_

A begging cry.

 _ **"We're doing this for a better future-"**_

Alanna took a few steps back from the painting.

 _ **"-disappointment as a guest-dare to touch something not yours-"**_

Something metal clanged. Susan and Alanna were still talking.

 _ **"-last longer than those children?"**_

Another clang.

"What are you seeing, Alanna?"

A gush of air. Familiar. So familiar.

Screams.

Screams.

Screams.

Susan laughed.

Screams.

Panting.

Susan was still laughing. Deep from her belly.

Another gush of air.

More screams.

Screams.

"It's not that funny."

"Oh, it is. I didn't expect that at all!"

Susan laughed again.

Eggsy's ears were still ringing.

"Misha?"

The screams were still echoing in his head.

The gust of air didn't happen again.

The screams echoed still.

"Misha, are you alright?"

He shook himself out and found Susan approaching him, arms reaching out. Her smile was worried and warm. Her eyes were soft, blue and alight. Warm.

"You looked like someone's been screaming off your ears, cousin."

It was the warmth. It was the genuinity.

She held his arms and squeezed.

"Don't worry. I'm here. I'll protect you."

It was the realization that you had your head within the gaping maw of the wolf without knowing and still surviving the experience.

No. Susan's not going in his top five list at all.

* * *

Gawain flipped her braid to her other shoulder as she took a swig of whiskey that the room service brought up. Normally, she wouldn't even be allowed to do this during debrief when in the HQ. An unspoken rule of professionalism. But then, the immediate reporting without even a break after the very mission called for alcohol. The burn trailed exquisitely down her throat, giving her strength to keep her awareness and wakefulness. At the same time, it gave her distance from the recent events.

Mission wise, they've gotten loads of Intel. More than they've thought in the beginning. Arthur, Merlin and she already drawn up a set of follow up missions to get more info after the result of this one. There was also a reason why she wasn't the forefront of the team. There was supposed to be so much more happening and to happen about this target, but by the results of what happened tonight, changes would be made, for sure. At this point, Guinevere pretty much laid the clearest path.

She took another sip and listened for footsteps outside the room.

If they play their cards right, they might just get a direct access to the heart of the syndicate.

"What did you think of tonight?"

Merlin didn't pull back and instead carried on doing whatever he was doing. He didn't even deign her a reply. He's probably reporting to Arthur already and setting up the next missions. She could only sigh and take another sip.

No footsteps still. She had surrendered her commlink and they were set on his desk. Her glasses were folded and in her breast pocket.

"What did you think of tonight?" Merlin finally pulled back a bit and tilted his head to her direction, repeating the question she posed at him. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She also took another sip, taking her time to contemplate and make him wait as he did to her. All the while, she watched his expressions. His face was blank, but his eyes were intense and hard.

She shrugged. "She's effective and a clear asset."

But.

"She's also either very careful or very reckless." The ice in her drink cracked. "Or very good in making people believe whichever she liked between the two."

Nothing shifted from his face and she was sure that her face mirrored it perfectly.

"It worked so well." She drawled. "Maybe some would say, it worked too well. If we continue this path, it could be an easy way in or a very large production of misdirection."

Merlin hummed and stretched his lips to some sort of a facsimile of a smile paired with a few nods. He then turned to the door. She heard the footsteps just in time to catch Guinevere and Galahad passing through one of the feeds on his screens. Of course, he was the all-knowing one.

And at this moment, Susan Pevensie was the unknown.

The door unlocked and Galahad stepped in, Guinevere following close.

"Yo." Galahad gave them a nod and an easy smile.

"Come on in and have a drink." Gawain raised her drink in acknowledgement. Her attention sliding to Guinevere the moment after.

The woman was once more barefoot with her heels dangling from her curled fingers. She was also very quiet and obviously drowsy enough that Galahad guided her by the elbow so she could sit down the arm chair. Her body sank into its comfort with a quiet sigh, then set her heels to the floor. It was only then that Galahad took a seat beside Gawain.

"I'm glad you're safe, Gawain." Guinevere sighed.

"How was it as your first mission, Majesty?"

"Oh. She's amazing. You should've seen it." Galahad nudged Gawain with his shoulder as he poured himself his own alcohol. "She had them eating on her palm."

"Guinevere?" Gawain asked again.

She yawned, her dazed gaze focusing after. "I'm rough and unused of how this technology works. Everything is faster and thus, the need is greater."

"But you handled it pretty well. Very well."

"Because it involved people and people may change, but they also stay the same."

"Ah. Humanity is quite the constant."

Guinevere yawned again. Galahad chuckled.

Gawain tilted his glass to Merlin who was observing the unknown. "Shall we debrief or leave it for tomorrow morning?"

"Please. I'm awake and aware. Let's have it now so we can all have a relaxing…" Guinevere's gaze moved around the room until she caught sight of the clock. Disappointment colored her gaze with whatever she found. The last time Gawain checked, it was past 3 am. "…sleep."

Merlin nodded.

* * *

"You sure you really want to still talk? Su's barely holding up."

Susan shooed Eggsy away with a chuckle. "I might be an old woman, but I have handled more sleepless nights than you can fit in your lifetime."

Eggsy put his arms akimbo and grinned that ever so rakish smile. "You look like I can't drag you away from there even if I tried. You're curled up like a cat."

"Meow?"

"A very dangerous cat."

She mirrored his smile, hugging her legs folded before her and wiggled her toes tucked in the space between the arm and the cushion.

It had been a temptation to succumb to exhaustion and take a nap, but she was telling the truth about her awareness. Adrenaline was still running high and her mind still rushed in review of what occurred. It required her to also think of possible future plans the Kingsman might go for. She wasn't getting far though, and her coherence was unraveling slowly.

She thanked Eggsy and Cassy, smile small and honest. With such honesty came her exhaustion. Cassy had the alcohol bottle in one hand and her glass in the other, saluting as she stepped out the room. Eggsy had his cuffs unbuttoned, his bowtie unlaced, and his coat slung over his shoulder. The door closed, but it didn't sink in until she was staring at it for almost a minute. When it did sink in, she turned back to the desk to find it empty.

Susan blinked and tilted her head to the side. Were magicians recruited in their ranks at some point?

Logic took control with an analysis that the chair looked vacated and an observation that the computer was locked. It helped her mind in battling sleep and catching up on what was happening. Then something clicked and moved on her left periphery. Merlin entered the room with a small medkit in hand. It had her moving without thought, feet back on the carpeted floor to push herself up. Did something happen while they were at the party? Were they discovered and compromised?

"Are you injur—"

"Nae. Sit down, Pevensie."

Confused, she plopped back to her seat. A beat later, she yawned again. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. Merlin sat down on the side of the couch closest to her.

"Are you al—" She yawned again, an obvious sign of her adrenaline bleeding out.

He only hummed, opening the medkit and worked.

She still couldn't figure why he's doing it in the first place.

"How are you?"

"I'm listing the advantages of accepting Alexandre's invitation." She folded her legs under her and leaned to the side closer to Merlin. "I am sure it's an opening we can take advantage of in addition to the ones the others are pursuing. We may not succeed, which I doubt, but even misdirecting will have an effect we can use."

She paused, gritting her teeth to stop the yawn that's tickling its way out. She lost the battle either way and yawned again. A frown marred her face immediately after. She caught a huff from him but she wasn't really sure if she heard it right. She wasn't even sure if that was of amusement or mockery. She's too tired to retaliate if it was the latter. She closed her eyes.

"How are you?"

She paused and frowned, not sure if she heard him right. She just answered that question. "…What?"

"How are you?" His tone was different than the one he used before. Softer. Seeking. She couldn't figure out what exactly he was asking about. It had her opening her eyes.

"I'm alive." That's the first line that tumbled out of her mouth. A line shared between her siblings when their world was more precious than her current reality. Where they were close enough that tone could give almost everything away. It was enough, for her at this moment at the very least.

Merlin nodded and motioned to her, a cotton ball held in one hand. "Here."

The fact that he had to clarify, "Your wound.", was a clear sign of her exhaustion. He even motioned to her neck.

When she understood, she straightened with an "Oh." Then, moved her hair to the other shoulder so it didn't hinder the view of it. She closed her eyes after.

In the darkness and following silence, she took slow deep breaths and counted them. Dancing with Sleep and Wakefulness. She was pulled away by the warmth on her neck, her eyes snapping open as fast as one could.

"I'm just cleaning the wound." His voice was low. Low enough that it reminded her of a Wolf's growl.

"It's not even deep." She watched him nod and tell her nothing else. His hands were busy peeling off the band aid Alexandre put on earlier. The expression on his face most curious. "Or dangerous."

"Aye." He swiped the cotton ball on the wound and she barely felt any sting. "We need to work on your stamina."

"I have good stamina. I just…"

She yawned. He smirked.

"Just?"

"I crash the moment I feel safe." She sighed. "It's not the best explanation, but it's the only one I have. My brothers used to tell me that it's not the most beautiful sight. Don't worry. I can work through many nights with no sleep and operate with a few minutes of a nap as long as there's something that's needed to be done."

Silence followed. She didn't know how long it lasted, but she knew she closed her eyes at some point of it.

"Do you always crash after missions?"

"No. Not always." She succeeded in opening her eyes again. It's getting harder each time. "Give me a few more missions and I'll be back to ideal form. Everything is just…faster this time around."

He already had the medkit packed and was just looking at her with a shadow of the smirk he wore earlier. She touched her wound to find a new band aid on it.

"Thank you, Merlin." She pushed herself up to her feet and searched for the clock once more. He followed suit, picking up the medkit. "May I be dismissed?"

"Aye. Good night Pevensie."

She smiled in amusement before it was pushed away by the following thought. "That would mean Eggsy's to be my partner for these missions. If you do agree in allowing me to pursue this."

"If needed, yes. Why?"

"I'll try not to unsettle him."

She yawned again.

"Get to bed, Pevensie."

Another yawn. "You too."

"Hm."

She gave him a look. He returned it with the same expression.

Another yawn signaled her loss. She growled, "By the mane."

"Sleep well."

* * *

"I've texted Su earlier. Should I go and wake her up?" Breakfast was ending and they should be going back to HQ. It was a quiet morning, not only between them but also in the state of the news. The latter was concerning, but entirely expected.

Eggsy gave them a sweeping look.

Cassandra patted her mouth with a napkin, taking the time to think. "You sound like you've done it before."

"Nah. Not really."

Merlin set the tablet he was holding to the side, having finished his meal way before any of the others. "Give her another hour."

Eggsy simply nodded. Cassandra raised a brow at him.

"Did something happen, Merlin?"

Merlin waved her concern away. "Just let her. Eggsy can wake her after an hour."

Pevensie needed it. It was her first mission, after all. Even if she didn't look obviously exhausted, she acted it. Especially when there's a pair of forgotten heels in Merlin's baggage as proof.

"Just an hour, Cassandra. We have time for it."


	16. Room

_The scent of blood no longer assaulted the nose, but it was present, easily detectable for one that knows its scent. Once detected, it would cling and never let go, dragging with it a plenty of things._

 _Pain, buried deep that even the softest of sounds couldn't even be uttered. Dread, for the possibilities of what to come. Silence followed by stillness, because at this point, that was always the end of these things. Waiting._

 _Underneath it all was anger, because this shouldn't have happened. With it, was guilt and hope._

 _Susan marveled at the cacophony of these emotions she was both witness and a participant of. She stood by one of the far walls. Drowning not only in the aforementioned emotions, but also in realizations. She was sure she wasn't alone. She was sure they would reach different conclusions. She had a clue of what those conclusions were._

 _In this Great Hall converted to fit the amount of bodies, damaged and struggling against the Death that walked its length, Susan watched as light walked the same path in defiance. Love in the forefront of their countenance. Hope in their touch. Strength ever willing to be shared not because it's in excess._

 _That's most they could provide, because their failure caused this in the first place._

 _"We are not just humans."_

 _"We are not."_

 _A realization made by the shadows as they watched the grieving light._

 _Susan didn't even look at her side, knowing who it was before the words were even uttered. Edmund would be standing with a calm expression and a touch of the perfect shadow of a smile. A cover that was foolproof to their people. Almost to their light. Never to her. Never to her, because she knew that he was holding his hands together behind him, digging his nails to his flesh. She knew the darkness that haunted his gaze. The thoughts that were still whispered in the Witch's voice. She knew him the same way she knew that Peter was trying his best not to clench his fist to the point that he couldn't loosen it. An action that would lead to him wanting to hit something and to hurt, and the thought that it wasn't enough a punishment to this failure. Thus, he opted to holding, gripping and patting shoulders, limbs and arms. Sharing the strength that he was mining from within. She knew them the same way she heard the roar in Lucy's words and laughter. The promise in every word of comfort and the unspoken question of what went wrong._

 _"We are not just humans." She repeated his words, not only because it needed repeating. It needed repeating because it was an old realization. It was the weight and extent linked to it that required the repetition._

 _She could feel Edmund's eyes on her, waiting with that shadow of the smile ever present._

 _"Your orders, Sister Queen?" This was the final push she was waiting for, after all._

* * *

From the instant they stepped out of that hotel up to this moment two weeks after, the Candy Syndicate removed any notion of rest.

It wasn't abnormal. Days after such missions always dictated such. Plans were made, remade and executed. Every step taken with extreme caution to not spook their enemies to the point of disappearing like they did before. One reason among others.

What was abnormal was that it never reached the usual normalcy, but only as close to it as possible.

"I'm tired and I'm blaming work, not you." The laughter that followed took attention. Not because it was too loud or too much. It wasn't because it sounded fake. It didn't sound fake at all. "Truly. Of all things to tease me about, you choose this. You of all people should know that this isn't something to tease about."

It took attention because it was familiar when it shouldn't be. It was an unfamiliar turning to something familiar, in a place where it shouldn't be.

"You're like me!" It was eerie to witness, even when one was aware of what was happening. Rather, especially when one was aware. "Not exactly the same, but we're both greedy bastards with a knack in business."

The words and emotion with its overall delivery felt natural that knowing what was happening caused it to be uncanny.

Because this was Ursa in a space and place that's for Susan Pevensie. That _should_ be for her.

Because Lucien Alexandre clung to Ursa Sullivan the moment she stepped out of the gala. Because apparently the interest wasn't a passing fancy.

Merlin watched as Ursa's face fell. Her lips the focus of such expression. A momentary downturn that shifted to pressing her lips together.

"That's sweet of you to say and I appreciate it. It's unfair and far from your fault that I'm disappointed, but I am." Ursa didn't glide or sway when taking her calls. She didn't even gesticulate. She expressed her emotions on her face and in her tone. While everything else was kept within. While Pevensie was, from what he saw, almost the exact opposite. "I adore Klaus and would love to see him again, but I expected you. I did my best to clear my schedule because you said you were coming and it escaped my mind that we're barely even friends. I am not the most important in your life and getting excited shouldn't be my main emotion."

It bothered Merlin that he was getting to know Ursa faster than Susan Pevensie. And it was because this mission didn't even ask for their decision. The moment Lucien called while Pevensie finally took her late breakfast, set it up for all of them.

"I guess blaming work was an excuse when I know It's my fault."

It was strange because there's a difference even in the way she used her eyes.

"I'm looking forward to Klaus' arrival, don't doubt that. I would never want to hurt his feelings even if I knew how to." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes during the duration. Gathering strength. "Maybe you'll surprise me with something the next time."

"I would love a gift from you. Maybe something thoughtful." She smiled, soft and indulging but it didn't chase away the disappointment in her tone. "Bye."

A tap on the phone to end the call. A movement to slip it back into a pocket. A slight turn.

"I guess he's still in Berlin." A sigh. "I forgot to ask if Klaus is even coming on the same date."

People in their line of business upheld the mission first and then the persona second as the norm. It was the way it always was. It was because of this that there's always a shift in the shedding of the persona. A transition. It was why if one knew how to manipulate, one can easily figure out friend from foe.

If one knew how to manipulate, one could easily make pawn and play.

Unless it was the other way around, which was a rare occurrence. If so, then what was the goal?

Pevensie made it look like that last one. That first call, the morning after, only proved it so because the shift was barely recognized. The small talk. The expressions and the sighs. The end of Ursa and the start of Pevensie was blurred. Especially when after said call, Eggsy was addressed as Misha and it was as if the rest of them weren't even there. And in the next beat she was calling Merlin a Wizard.

It didn't help that such switching followed them to HQ, and that he wanted to ask, but was too curious of the results.

Well, it did help at some point. Exposure meant familiarity after all.

"He's going to board a flight to China by tomorrow." Merlin started, flicking the tracking and the rest of the information on his cliptab, his gaze still on her. "As for Klaus, I'm sure he'll be calling Ursa soon."

Ursa never, for the past two weeks, was the one to initiate the call.

There was one look and after that, one expression that was Susan Pevensie's. At least, he thought it was exclusive to her. It was too early to say and she hadn't performed past that one persona of Ursa Sullivan, yet.

There.

It was that momentary look of being unreachable and untouchable, as if she wasn't there existing at that instance. A look he could distinguish, because the one that was mixed with panic and loss was carved deep in his memory. A look that he learned would warp into an expression that made him feel like she's looking at the world from the same set of eyes but from different points of time, from different aspects of the same person.

Another moment and it's gone.

"Truly Merlin, you should've made yourself comfortable instead of waiting framed by the doorway."

"I doubt you'd allow the call to span too long." He logged the call for evaluation later and adjusted his schedule for the day.

"Getting sick of the conversations, I see." She approached him with that ever default amused and teasing smile. It made him curious why she opted for such expression as her default. And how she could maintain it. "I'll do my best to spare you of the nonsense."

"I thought this was your best." He couldn't help but bite the bait. He didn't even try to resist. When it came to these little banters, he found himself enjoying the spark that lit her eyes when he accepted her challenge and laid his own. He could see the thoughts shifting and the plans forming in her gaze and he would openly deny that he was looking forward to it.

He was always denying that he was looking forward to whatever she was going to do. Too curious.

"He tried to sound as he usually is, but even Eggsy would hear that he's distressed."  
"That might be because Ursa's disappointed."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Her expression enough to convey what she wanted to say.

He gave her a one shouldered shrug in return. He knew she knew what he meant. "Or, that would be our people bringing down their bases one by one."

"We might be able to push another mission to one of their bases in Berlin if he's going to fly to Beijing. Not one under his care, of course. If he falls out of favor, it would make my job harder. Just something to keep him on his toes."

"Would there be any change of plans on your end?"

"Minor adjustments. We can still go through with the plan and just set it on the day Klaus is going to arrive. I would have to go to the office to tell them about it." She paused, cocking her head to the side and looking at him with the question clear. "Why are you here?"

The office. The false story that they built for their cover now as close to reality as they needed. They reordered the structure of one of their business branches to reflect the story they needed going so far in making sure that the act was perfect.

"Don't tell me you were able to tell Alexandre was going to call? Because I would appreciate the heads up."

"No. We might have the technology, but I don't have the time to constantly monitor it." He stepped back to the hallway and motioned for her to come with him. She blinked, furrowed her eyebrows a bit and scrunched her nose. If he was getting this right, Pevensie's truths could be found far from her lips. "Also, I think you can handle yourself well enough for that."

"Careful Wizard." She stepped out the room. "You make it sound like you're trusting me."

"Holding your hand through this would be an insult to both of us." Merlin rolled his eyes at her nickname of him. "I came here looking for you."

"I'm flattered." She fluttered her lashes at him and went so far as to place her hand against her bosom.

It was hard to keep his face unamused, because she looked like she was having fun.

Instead, he stared her down until she chuckled. Then, turned to lead her away.

"He implied a surprise." She restarted the conversation a few steps into their trek.

"The one Ursa asked to be something thoughtful?"

She nodded.

Her thoughts consumed her then, and he in turn let himself be consumed by his own. Thoughts that revolved around what she could possibly mean and the knowledge that she would share it willingly. If he would tell her that he knew what she was implying. If he would tell her that she wasn't alone in such thoughts. If he would even imply that everyone in the Kingsman had their eyes on her, both in anticipation and suspicion.

And that the Kingsman was prepared, for whichever end this might go.

"How low can you go?"

It was his turn to blink. It was his turn to pause. Pause enough to halt walking and stare at her. She took a few more steps before turning a bit to face him.

Her eyes.

Shards of ice.

The weight of those words was only amplified by the vagueness of her delivery.

"For the sake of everyone's prosperity, safety and peace, how low can you go?" She waited for another moment. His mind tried to figure out how his response to this would affect the course of their future. There's blood on his hands already. He had destroyed plenty of lives. He had met almost every type of criminal and had brought them to their own brand of justice. What more was she asking? Was she asking the low that he could only imagine? "Are you willing to fight for the world's humanity even if it requires surrendering your own?"

Her eyes. Those shards of ice told him too much to the point that he couldn't figure it out.

"Yes."

* * *

Susan didn't dwell long with her question or with his answer and everything else surrounding it. A few breaths after that exchange, she smiled and started asking advice on how to proceed with the new situation before them. As if that moment didn't happen.

She saw the confusion and suspicion in his gaze when she didn't explain anything. But he didn't ask any questions or even commented on it. She knew it bothered him and that he wanted nothing more than to piece her apart to figure her out. Her secrets. Her stories. Her loyalty. Her truths. She knew that one of the only things stopping him was his curiosity.

Instead she plowed on, talking about everything else.

She knew. She knew it well, because she was the same. Not to the specifics, but she was intimate with curiosity's hold and power.

She was a Pevensie, after all.

"For Pete's sake, dinnae even dare." It was also adorable how his accent shows up more when he's annoyed or just feeling an emotion strong enough to drop his formalities. It's not often, but she started taking it as little victories when she broke his composure. "I dinnae need another bairn to take care of. Also, ye're the self-proclaimed Nanna, ain't ye?"

Also, the fact that he would meet her head on during these moments, unless something stops and distracts him, was another source of her delight. It was better than his distance. Of which she understood. It was better than his walls. Of which she had the same. Even more dangerous, if she was to believe old friends that breathed abreast her.

But.

"Merlin. It's just a reminder that even a man such as he shouldn't be disappointing a woman." She grinned as she tried to ignore the implications of where he was leading her. Before her training, she filled her time with exploring the mansion and she might not be familiar with this wing, but she knew what laid here. "Also, the Fashion Department already volunteered their assistance. They're ever so kind."

"One mission and ye already became their doll." It was supposed to be an insult and it sounded like it, but his eyes didn't align with it. He was proud of the Kingsman and being part of it. "Of all the departments to endear yerself to. If I ken ye better, I'd say ye're just excited to dress up."

She shrugged. "I'm a selfish woman, Merlin. That's the second you must know about me. The third would be that paired with that selfishness is greed. So who am I to deny such finery?"

He stared at her, dissecting such statements. She took her time then to look around once more.

The living quarters of the mansion. Of all places to lead her, it was here. She wanted to ask why, but it was the same curiosity that stopped her. Opting to wait and see, because it was more enjoyable to wonder the possibilities and witness which would be true.

"And the first?"

"Hm?" She was already counting through three levels of possibilities. His expression halted those thoughts and turned it to the possibilities linked to him. She smiled. "Susan always lies."

"Finally!"

She wasn't even given the chance to see his reaction. Merlin's eyes shifted and then everything was gone. "Harvey. You were supposed to wait with the others."

"You were taking too long." Even his accent came to the minimum.

Curious day. Curious day.

"Phone call. Not that important at the moment." She waved of, because at this point this was the curiosity that was most accessible. "Where to?"

"Ah." Harvey pulled out a blindfold from his coat pocket. "This is required."

"Truly?" She stared at Harvey and then turned to Merlin, who sighed and just cocked his head back to the blindfold.

A great part of Susan knew that this was a surprise. A good one. A small part of her though, clawed and hissed. _What if?_ They didn't trust her, but she was sure they wouldn't hurt her. _Yet. Yet._

"Am I in trouble?"

"Trouble?" Harvey's expression shifted as smooth as she expected. It's hard to discern which was sincere and not with their lot. "Not that I know of. Merlin?"

 _There were many ways to hurt._

"No. You don't have to wear the blindfold, but Harry requested that you close your eyes at least."

"Of course." She turned to Harvey. "Would you do the honors?"

There were many ways to deal with hurt.

She closed her eyes and waited, stretching her other senses to still be aware of everything else. Harvey before her. Merlin to her left. It was a few beats later that Harvey moved close and did the blindfold.

"Too tight?"

She opened her eyes to test the blindfold and was impressed that it was dark enough. She closed her eyes once more. "Not at all. You didn't snag my hair too. Amazing."

"You wound me. I know my way around blindfolds."

"Ah, yes. I know what you mean. Do you enjoy wearing one or making others wear it?"

"The latter."

She grinned wide. "I prefer the former more. Though I don't mind the latter. It's always a delight to be a witness and a giver."

"I'm afraid I won't be leading you to bed though." He chuckled and moved to her right, guiding her arm and wrapping it around his. "But we must share ideas later."

"Yes, please."

Merlin cleared his throat and moved past her to lead. Even without her sight, she knew he wasn't amused.

Harvey chuckled, patted her hand and started forward. The air around him smug.

The rest of the walk was shorter and straightforward. At some point, she heard a door open and then click close once they passed through. A few more steps further into the room, then stop.

Stop.

Harvey gave her another pat, then stepped away. Merlin moved from the door to somewhere to her southwest. There was also someone else in the room, moving closer from her northwest.

"Harry." She gave a nod, tilting her head up a bit in approximation.

"Glad that you finally joined us."

"I'm not really sure what I'm joining in yet." She motioned to the blindfold. "May I?"

"Please."

What welcomed her was what she expected. Living quarters, larger than her current guest room. It looked well-maintained and arranged. Care shown in the choice of colors and how the furniture fit the style. They stood in what was most likely the receiving room, and it felt like one. A place for tea parties and just entertaining a friend or a guest.

Then she noticed the stack of boxes by a wall and some smaller ones on the chairs. Gifts?

She shifted and turned, only to stop halfway.

One of Lucy's grand paintings adorned one of the walls.

That of the busy port.

A port.

One that trapped the breath inside her and made her mind replay memories not only in succession, but side by side. It didn't even allow her to exhale. Not only because of the crowd in that painting.

Splendour Hyaline and the Dawn Treader were the centerpiece. In all its glory.

The Swan. The Dragon.

She whirled around, scanning the room for more of Lucy's works. She had long realized what this was for. This room. This event. Suddenly, those boxes. At this very moment, it didn't matter. What mattered were those paintings and everything else that wasn't hers, but ever dear, that could be in these quarters. Each of them she knew by heart and etched in her memory. Each of the painting made not only for Lucy's own memory and stories, but to show it to Susan in an attempt to connect. An attempt to get back a part of the sister she lost. An attempt to find a common ground to still be sisters. Which they found in some way. However, in the end, it was too late for Susan to let herself be pulled by Lucy's yearning grip, even for just a little bit. For a little sacrifice. Instead, all she could do was to memorize each of what she left behind through tears while sitting on the floor of her empty flat.

She did the same with everything else. Everything she could get her hands on. Even when it hurt, turned her inside out, and drowned her in memories, truths, fears, and anger that she had locked for forever.

She should've expected this. They did mention that the Kingsman salvaged everything they could from her flat.

But.

"The rest of the paintings are under Facility's care." Harry's voice broke through her speeding thoughts, but he didn't give them pause until he stepped into her line of vision. He looked at the painting for a moment, then met her gaze with a comforting smile. "We thought that it's time you have a more permanent space. You're far from a guest, after all. Maybe at some point, you'll be able to call this home."

She had to grit her teeth to stop the outpour of questions.

"And, yes. It's a team decision and effort." Harvey commented with clear confidence and pride. He motioned around the room. "What do you think?"

She took a deep breath and chuckled, stalling time to get a grasp of her patience and control. "I like it. It's warm."

"I am the best in interior design so I took it to myself to rearrange everything to something you would be comfortable in."

"The best? Are you sure we don't have a department for this?" It was easy to tease, to focus and cling to something amusing and follow its trail.

"Excuse me?! When I said I am the best, I mean it against everyone in this mansion even the Department for Interior Design. If we have one, which we don't." He huffed and pursed his lips for a moment. "Anyone that tells you otherwise is lying."

"Like who?"

"Like Gillian."

She blinked. "Tristan? Did I get it right?"

"Yes, and she'll be coming back soon, so I'm giving you a heads up." He pointed at the doors. "That door is to your bedroom, where your bath and closet are too. While this door here, is to one of our largest balconies. That one wasn't my idea."

She peeked around Harvey. "You spoil me. My thanks, Harry."

Harry tilted his head to the side. She followed the direction and found Merlin looking at Lucy's painting. "It's a team effort."

Oh.

Merlin felt the gaze and turned. "As before, there's a list of everything we brought out from storage in one of the boxes. There's also another list of the rest of everything under your name that we have. As before, you can choose which you wish to keep or take out of, and those you wish to return."

She smiled. "Thank you, Merlin."

"We might be able to continue the tour in a few."

The moment he finished that line, the door opened and in stumbled Eggsy. Roxy pushed him to the side, strutting in and sweeping a look around.

She then deadpanned at Harvey, who smirked in return. "Good. You actually waited for us. What's in the bedroom was my idea and I will be pissed if I miss your reaction."

Susan stared at the bags Eggsy brought in. "What happened?"

Eggsy beamed. "We went shopping for room warming gifts."

"He went shopping. I was dragged unwillingly. That's different."

"Agree to disagree." He shrugged. "They're just a couple of consoles and games. If you need help and playmates, feel free to holler for your resident gamer. Me."

"Thank you, my dearests. I surely don't deserve this much."

Roxy and Eggsy looked at each other, then looked at her, and in unison spoke, "Nonsense."

Harvey guided her to the bedroom door, the rest following closely. Roxy and Eggsy's excitement was loud with an undercurrent of anxiety, and it made her nervous.

What more could they show her?

The painting kicked her breathing out the window, and it still pained her to continue breathing. Paintings. Journals. Sketches. Letters. She could list all the possible belongings that were in this room with her, and each of them stabbed her insides. Belongings that she kept in her flat because she couldn't let them go. What more? And was she ready for such more?

"Should I close my eyes again?" She asked to prepare herself. To stall. To gather information. To pick a more accurate possibility. "I promise not to peek."

"No need." Roxy motioned to the door. She gave her an encouraging smile. "Go on. I hope you'll like it."

They didn't even open the door for her. All the responsibility and choice in her hands. Would it be another painting? Or something more? Maybe from her parents? Something of Peter's? Or Edmund's?

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

The mystery and her nervousness eclipsed the beauty that laid before her. It looked comfortable and as homey as the receiving room. Of calm colors. It was elegant, but it didn't sink in. Instead, she marched in, searching. She needed to know what more they could show her.

"Impossible."

It echoed. It echoed loud and brought with it every instance she uttered the word. Up to the most important one. Of cold and white. Of wonder and impossibility. Of a memory that made her want to weep in happiness and rage in grief.

Of the very same wardrobe standing before her.

The very same.

This time there was no pause of silence.

"How?" It started as a whisper to herself. Her mouth too slow compared to the speed of her brain that had clung to another question entirely. _Why?_ A question she knew wouldn't be answered or even be understood to her satisfaction by the people around her. This question wasn't for them. She approached. Her hands reached out. Her touch already remembering and knowing the texture and engravings she would no doubt trace before they even achieved contact.

How many nights had she stared at its façade? With questions she couldn't ask out loud because no one held the answer. How many times had she climbed in? How many hours had she sat in its darkness with her head against her sibling's shoulder? Against the wood? Curled up with grief, while whispering what ifs, memories and fears.

Oh. How many secrets it did keep in the end.

"How?" She asked again, louder, while her eyes were still glued to the wardrobe. She sought the answers to this question. Because this was easier to ask. Because this was easier to understand. Because maybe the answer would satisfy her. "How did you get this? The Professor's house. What happened when I disappeared?"

"The Kingsman purchased it. The house itself underwent plenty of renovations and is now one of our safehouses in the area." As she expected, it was Harry that answered her. "It's far from the original house, but most of the floor plans stayed the same. It actually explained why you have a few full sets of medieval armors under your name."

"And a few Greek and Roman busts as well." She couldn't help but mention. "I was to arrange the matters of the house, but I disappeared."

"We gathered."

"I couldn't live there." For more reasons than she could and would ever allow herself to admit. "It's too much for me to maintain and I was planning to donate some pieces."

"The Kingsman only owns the house."

That made her turn a bit, her eyes wide.

"Yes. Exactly." This knowledge was Harry's gift and the realization floored her.

"And you never even checked or did anything about it? For years?"

It was Merlin that answered those questions. "It's checked and things were done to it. The maintained and taken care of kind."

Susan took a deep breath, lungs aching and deeming such breath not enough. The silence that followed stretched as she rested her forehead against the wood. She needed to sift through the whirlwind of emotions she felt. All that it could mean.

 _This world in time may have heroes, gods, and knights, but it lacks a Narnian when it will direly need one._

She walked away from Narnia as it no longer needed her. She let its song fade away and never sought the Lion in this world, even when she knew who He was. Instead, she sought her place in this world that she was sure needed her. A place that would never stop needing her.

Edmund understood, but didn't know how to help. Peter tried to understand and tried to support her. Lucy did her best in keeping her in between. However, they couldn't fathom why she surrendered. Why she went that far. Now here's the wardrobe and she could feel the magic, faint as it was, pulse.

She pulled back and gripped the handles. Just a peek. Whatever was within, it would guide the path she would take. It would cement a decision.

Then, it's in for a penny, in for a pound.

She pulled, just enough for her to see what's inside.

Wood. Leather. Red. Gold. Ivory.

She slammed the doors closed and opted to rest her forehead against it once more. All she wanted at this very moment was to curl up and weep until she laughed.

Aslan called her Queen, still. He called her Narnian, still.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

 _In return, I believe a Queen would need heroes, gods, and knights, would she not?_

"Su? Is it bad?" Roxy broke the silence, worried and unsure.

Susan shook her head and stepped away from the wardrobe. She approached Roxy and engulfed her in a hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Uh…You're welcome."

She squeezed Roxy and chuckled, her lungs no longer painful.

"I want a hug for my gifts too." So, Eggsy got one. Harvey requested for a kiss on the cheek, which she was more than happy to give.

"How long do you think it would take for you to move from the guest room?" Harry started the moment she let go of Harvey.

"I might be able to do it tonight. Once I got over all the-"

"Feels." Eggsy quipped, making her dissolve in laughter.

"Yes, Eggsy. The feels. Thank-"

Her phone rang. The beeping ringtone already distinguished that it wasn't from one of her new friends. Her first thought was that of a wish that it wasn't Alexandre. Susan gave them an apologetic smile, pulling out the phone and praying still that it's not Alexandre. Eggsy shrugged and mouthed a goodbye for the time being. She nodded and mouthed it back to them.

She watched as they filed out the room. Merlin, on the other hand, paused and gave her a show of looking carefully on his cliptab and smirking. "It's not Alexandre."

Susan smiled in relief, answering the call.

Ursa's body relaxed, and her thoughts turned to warm fondness and excitement to the light-hearted voice she would surely hear. "Klaus. Are you calling because you're informed belatedly? Or for something else entirely?"

 _"Both, but more on the latter,_ _Mäuschen."_

"Did something happen?"

 _"No. I'm here to applaud you for actually making Lucien guilty and distracted from something."_ It sounded like he was in a gathering at the moment, music and talks in the background. _"How do you even do it?"_

"…I don't really know."

Ursa had a clue. Susan knew.

"Are you fine with this? It was Lucien that promised to come to visit." Ursa pressed her lips together during the pause. "How did he make you agree? I'm alright and I don't mind waiting. We're all business people and you're more likely to be busier than Lucien and I combined."

Klaus was a more hands-on business owner compared to Lucien, and it was something that Ursa delighted upon. She was similar in idea, but not in delivery. It was because of such that she enjoyed comparing their thought processes when faced with similar situations and triggers.

Susan liked Klaus because of the glint in his eyes and the cadence of his voice. It was familiar, in a _kindred souls amid strangers_ kind of way.

 _"Well, it's time for the two of us to meet without the kid hovering close, don't you think?_ "

"Is he hovering around right now?"

 _"Nein."_

Susan wondered if there would come a time that Klaus would completely fall outside the branches of possibility that she'd set down. Or, maybe at the very least would choose one of the most unlikely possibilities she'd entertained. A cycling thought that came with the hope of being surprised and challenged.

"Did he really try to siphon our conversations from you?"

 _"I don't know what you did, but he's pretty smitten."_

"I doubt."

 _"He's introduced you to everyone he could with me as one of your references. So, you can imagine how many times I've mentioned your loveliness."_

"Just lovely? Are you doing it again in that party you're in?"

 _"Yes, not as important as the one Lucien hosted, but your reputation precedes you now. Also, you like it. Don't deny."_

It was Susan that chuckled, taking another sweeping look at the now empty room. "Oh, I do. I really do."

"I _am_ looking forward to seeing you again." Ursa said with every ounce of sincerity.

 _"As am I, Mäuschen. I have plenty to tell that the kid doesn't need to hear."_

"Oh?" She straightened at the weight of those words. "Now I'm intrigued."

 _"And I expect that you're going to ask the right questions."_

"And may you give me fulfilling and interesting answers."

 _"Only if you understand."_

Ursa took a deep breath. A promise. "I will do my best."

 _"See you in two weeks."_

She was excited at the prospect of having something to look forward to, and it showed with how she said her goodbyes.

Susan, on the other hand, was adjusting the possibilities and plans she'd lain, producing more and eliminating the now unlikely. Changes were made to the plans she never told anyone too. Those that made sure she always had the upper hand in at the very least, one aspect of everything. She sifted through her memories, analyzing patterns that repeated through her lifetimes from the most recent to the oldest past.

Oldest past. Of Narnia and her Network.

Narnia was still singing and she could now hear it once more.


End file.
